Take Me Home, Country Roads
by unraveled.words
Summary: Emma Anderson had a good life, but the untimely death of her parents has sent her reeling. But when a knock to the head results in her waking up in 1882...Emma has no choice but to forget about everything she thought she knew to fit in. Eventual Cap/OC
1. Prologue

It had been a long ride. A really long ride. Ten hours or more, according my GPS, not counting the untold amount of time I was lost in rural Maryland when it decided to stop working. Thanks to some friendly truckers at my second pit stop, I was able to continue on my way, but the exhaustion was starting to kick in. I have some good music on my iPod, but after ten hours, even the best tunes can be too much to handle.

Luckily for me, just as the sun started to set over the hills, I passed the welcome sign for Matewan, West Virginia. I had made it.

The ride from Brooklyn hadn't necessarily been difficult in and of itself – it was actually kind of nice to drive through city and suburbs and country and finally mountains, with nothing but the road before me and the cool spring air in my hair. It was more the _reason_ I was driving to the boonies of West Virginia, to visit some great aunt I had never met and couldn't quite figure out where she belonged on the family tree.

Simply put, I was driving all this way because my parents were dead.

It was mid-March, and I was just getting out of class at UNC Chapel Hill on the day before spring break when I got the call. My parents were supposed to be driving down from Brooklyn to meet me, and the three of us were going to spend the following week in Charleston, South Carolina. My parent's always wanted to spend my breaks with me, and I, frankly, would have rather been with them than getting hammered with the co-eds at Myrtle Beach. So, when I saw my dad's number on my phone, I answered with a smile and a promise to be packed and ready to go by the time they arrived.

Unfortunately, it wasn't my father on the other end of the line, but a doctor at Johns Hopkins Medical Center. My parents had been in a car crash, he said, hit by an eighteen-wheeler driven by some poor schmuck on a twenty hour shift who had fallen asleep at the wheel. There was a ten car pile up on the expressway - Mom and Dad had been pinned in their car. Mom had been killed instantly, Dad was apparently still alive when the gas tank caught fire.

By the time I had made it to the medical center, the autopsies were underway and I was asked to make a number of decisions that to this day I don't know how I managed to answer without completely collapsing. Jeremy and Ronnie, my parent's band mates came down to meet me. Between the three of us we were able to make arrangements and soon enough I was on my way back to Brooklyn, on compassionate leave from UNC for the remainder of the semester.

They met when they were both at NYU for school – Mom was an exchange student from Ireland and Dad was the radio show host who refused to play her requests until she went out with him. They got married right after college, getting jobs and settling in Brooklyn. Dad was a music teacher at the local high school. Mom managed one of the best locally owned bookstores in the city. They also were in a folk band called Swinging Gypsies, with the aforementioned Jeremy and Ronnie. They couldn't have kids on their own, and so adopted me when I was just two weeks old, having been left off at the fire state next store to Dad's school. It was just the three of us from then on out. Mom hated to cook, but could bake like a champ. Dad was determined that I love John Denver as much as he did. We took trips every other year to visit her family in Cork, and to see my dad's only surviving family in Seattle on the alternating years. We didn't have a TV in the house, but we had more than enough record players, books and instruments to keep up entertained. Lee and Nora Anderson were good people, who died far too young, but still made their mark on the world.

At least, that's what I told the people who had come to the funeral. I wasn't good with public speaking, and eulogizing my parents was the last thing I wanted to do. It wasn't great, but I found myself really not caring what anyone thought. Of course, my parents were loved by their friends and family, and their memorial was attended by so many people, from students to fans of the band to casual bookstore customers who always appreciated the help my mom gave them. But despite the outpouring of love, I couldn't help but feel completely and utterly alone.

Jeremy and Ronnie helped me pack up the house. I could have kept it, thanks to the life insurance policies my parents had – but I could be there without them. So, the past month was spent packing, selling and moving. The only things I kept were my Mom's books and my dad's instruments and records, everything else was sold. My parents were really sentimental about objects, and neither was I. Their memory wasn't going to be kept alive in a wall clock or an old worn chair. Besides, I didn't have room for much else in my small apartment in Chapel Hill.

I was planning on heading back there, or possibly head to Ireland for a time, but the idea of being around my friends who would be stressed with school or my Irish relatives who would be in mourning in their Irish Catholic way, just wasn't appealing. That was when the letter came.

Florence Anderson lived in Matewan, West Virginia, and was over ninety years old. No one knew for sure just how old, nor just how she was related to my dad. He had always just called her Crazy Aunt Flo and left it at that. She had always been around, on the periphery of Dad's family. When my paternal grandparents had been alive they had mentioned her a few times – how she was a bit of recluse in the mountains and rarely saw anyone. I think my grandfather saw her one time in 1962 at some family reunion or something. I didn't know why she was crazy, or even that she existed until my 10th birthday, when I received a birthday card and $100 from her. $100 for a ten year old was a huge amount, so I of course declared Flo to be my favorite relative. Dad had been completely confused – he had never gotten anything from her. I rubbed it in his face then and every year after as, without fail, I received another card and another $100. I also got cards for my high school graduation and when I won the local talent show with my singing and guitar playing.

So when Crazy Aunt Flo sent me a letter expressing her condolences on the death of my parents, I wasn't surprised. What did surprise me was the fact that she invited me to come visit.

We had never spoken in person, just letters back and forth. I knew nothing about her, aside from the few random stories I had picked up over the years. And now she wanted me to drive out to East Jesus Nowhere, West Virginia. She gave me her address and said to come whenever I felt like it, no need to call ahead. Maybe she _was_ crazy.

But after all the packing and crying struggling to figure out what I was going to do, I felt like _I_ might be going crazy. So, I did what any crazy person would do, and took her up on her offer.

It was late April now, and I was almost to her place. I figured I would stay for a bit, play it by ear depending on how much of a nutcase she was/how bored I got, and then head back to North Carolina. Hanging out with an old lady in the middle of nowhere didn't seem like the most exciting thing in the world, but it was something different, I reasoned. And for some reason I always like the idea of West Virginia…or at least the mountains. I knew Dad's family was from there way back when, but we had never been. I'd grown up in the city all my life, though I did go to camp a few times. The great outdoors was always appealing.

"Turn left here," the GPS commanded. "Destination on right in 3.2 miles."

I turned onto the dusty dirt road that wound along the bank of a river, the hills rising up on either side, the air fresh with the smell of evergreens and wild flowers. It really was beautiful here, and it seemed Aunt Flo lived pretty far off the beaten path. The untouched beauty of my surroundings was incredibly refreshing.

Winding down the road, I tried to keep an eye out for the house. I had no idea what to expect – Matewan had been normal enough, if not incredibly small. But it had typical houses and gas stations and even a Wal-Mart. The stereotype of West Virginia had me thinking they all lived in trailers with twelve brother-cousins and six teeth between them. I made a mental note not to mention that to anyone I met.

"You have arrived at your destination."

Turning a final corner, I came upon a clearing in the woods, modest white farmhouse sitting up on the hill with views of the river and the surrounding valley. There was a rose garden and a garage, a tall oak tree providing shade to the wrap-around porch. It was adorable.

And Crazy Aunt Flo was sitting on the porch in a rocking chair, knitting. Parking near the garage, I checked myself in the mirror to make sure I wasn't a complete mess, and reminding myself how far I had driven and that I couldn't back out now, got out of the car. Flo didn't look up at my as I approached the porch, though I was sure she saw my pull in. The only acknowledgment I got was from a black cat lounging lazily in the last remnants of the dying sun. It meowed as I put my foot on the first step.

"Aunt Flo?" I asked gently, not wanting to startle her. "Florence Anderson?"

She looked up from her sewing, taking me in with crystal blue eyes. Her skin was white and wrinkled, her hair silver and pulled back into a bun. She was small and fragile looking, but that was to expect when you're coming up on 100 years old. "Oh hello Emma, dear," she said with a sweet smile. "I've been expectin' you."

I was slightly taken aback by the fact that she knew who I was, but assumed that maybe my dad had sent her a picture of me or something. "I'm surprised you recognized me," I admitted, coming fully onto the porch, wringing my hands a bit awkwardly.

"You look exactly like I 'member you," she said, looking back to her knitting. "Welcome to Mate Creek."

"Is that the name of the river?" I asked, looking down the lawn through the trees. You could hear the river clearly, and some reflections of the suns rays shone through the forest.

"No, that's the Tug," she replied, as though I should have known that. "Mate Creek is the town."

"Oh," I replied, nodding. "I thought it was Matewan."

Flo waved her hand dismissively. "That's the new name. But it was Mate Creek long before that." Right.

"Cute cat," I offered, getting a feeling that Aunt Flo thought we were a lot more acquainted than we actually were. "What's its name?"

"Don't have a name," she replied. "But he's good luck." Black cats usually weren't, but I decided to let it go. I was beginning to see why Dad referred to her as 'Crazy' Aunt Flo.

"You have a beautiful house," I tried one last time.

"Darlin'," she said, putting down her knitting, southern accent coming through fully. "Are you gonna stand there and try to chit-chat about things that don't matter, or are you gonna get your things and get settled?" I blinked at her. "Your bed's made up already. Second floor, first door on the right."

As I unpacked, I decided that I might stick around for a bit. Aunt Flo might be a bit crazy, but I also got the feeling that she was going to be quite entertaining. I was at the bargaining stage of the grieving process – so my psycology major roommate Lindy told me – as I thought that maybe making closer ties with my distant family would help me be closer to my parents. Lindy, who I considered my best friend, though she didn't come up for the funeral, had scoffed at my plan to visit Flo, but shrugged it off saying it was how I was "dealing" with my parents' deaths.

It had been over a month by this point, and while I wasn't happy and missed them terribly, I had accepted the fact that they were gone. But being around their friends in New York or at school in North Carolina just kept reminding me that they were gone. I didn't want to think about it anymore.

And Flo had yet to mention in. It was both strange and relieving at the same time.

I spent my first day at Flo's helping her in the garden. She basically ordered me around as I cleaned up some fallen branches and trimmed her rose bushes.

The next day I drove into town for groceries – Flo barely had anything in the house and I wondered how she survived out here on her own. Flo then started teaching me how to knit. I had tried to get online and email my friends, but Flo had laughed saying that she 'had no need of that confounded world wide web'. Cell phone service as well, was lacking. But in a way, it was sort of refreshing to be completely cut off from the world.

The third was spent on my bed, crying. Apparently I wasn't as over my parent's deaths as I thought. Flo didn't bother me all day, only bringing me some lunch around noon and a cup of tea. She didn't say anything about my red eyes.

On the fourth day, which was cool and cloudy, Flo called me up to the attic. I didn't really know how she got up there – the woman could barely get up the stairs – but I had found she was a bit sneaky in her movements. Sometimes, when I thought she was in the kitchen, she'd show up right behind me with some random object she wanted me to clean. One time, I looked out the window to see her shooing the nameless cat back into the house. I looked away for what I thought was less than a minute, but she then called to me from the top of the stairs to bring her denture cream, which was, for some reason, on the back porch.

So, I didn't really question how she made into the attic, but it was clear that when I got up there, I was in for a long talk.

The attic itself looked like it was straight out of a period piece novel, where the heroine finds herself in the possibly haunted attic in the estate home of the gentleman suitor she doesn't know she loves. There were cobwebs and candlesticks, a large full-length mirror, books and more books, and a chest, which I was sure once contained (and possible still did) pirate treasure. Flo by passed all of the more interesting looking items – such as a globe that still had the United States as including the Oregon Territory and two pistols that undoubtedly were used in an Old West shoot out – and went to one chest at the very end of the room. It creaked open, but no poof of dust emerged as I expected.

"There are things you need to know, Emma," she said. "About West Virginia."

I watched as she pulled an old album out of the trunk. Surprisingly, it was clean, as though it had only recently been looked through. She handed it to me.

"Go on, open it."

I did and squinted in the dim lighting at the figures in the pictures. They were all black and white, looking like they dated from around the time of the Civil War.

"Who are they?" I asked.

"That's Devil Anse Hatfield," Flo said, pointed to the man in the middle of a group photo. He had a short beard, a black hat and rifle across his lap. "Have you ever heard of the Hatfields and the McCoys, Emmaline?"

"Of course," I replied immediately. "But…to be honest I don't know much about them. I didn't even realize they were from here."

"You're Daddy never did tell you much about West Virginia, did he?" she tutted. "The Hatfields and the McCoys were two families who lived in these hills, on either side of the river here. The feud between them killed a whole bunch of family members and plenty of others. Went on for decades. Got the Governors of West Virginia and Kentucky involved and everything."

"And this Devil Dan started it?"

"Devil Anse, dear, though you best just call him Mr. Hatfield. Got to pay respect where respect is due."

"Oh, okay, sorry." Aunt Flo headed back toward the stairs.

"Bring that down here and we'll talk over some tea."

I set up the album at the kitchen table as the first drops of rain started to fall. The wind had picked up and I watched out the window as the oak tree swayed ominously. Flo barely even noticed.

"So, the Hatfields and the McCoys," Flo said, pouring each of us a cup of tea. "Ol' Randall McCoy and Devil Anse were friends, you know," she said, looking at me as if I knew these men personally. She certainly acted like she did.

"Apparently, that ended?" I offered, taking a sip of my tea.

"After the War," Flo nodded. "McCoy never forgave Devil Anse for desertin' the Army, or the fact that Anse's Uncle Jim Vance supposedly murdered his brother Harmon. Then there was the whole pig incident which I won't get into."

Oh, thank God.

"Sounds like a complicated relationship."

"Sure was. Didn't help much that the families had intermarried in different ways. Meant a lot of people had to choose sides. This here is Lavicy Hatfield," she said, pointing to a new picture of a woman holding a young child. She was quite beautiful, with strong features and cool, but not unkind eyes. "Wonderful woman, and mother. Loves her children somethin' fierce."

I was a bit worried that maybe Flo shouldn't have been spending so much time alone in the house. She was starting to make friends with the pictures of her long dead ancestors.

"Who are they, Aunt Flo?" I asked, pointing to two young men, trying to show my interest.

"Ah, I was wonderin' when you'd notice them boys." Flo looked at me, an odd, almost knowing smile on her face.

"That there is Johnse Hatfield," she said, pointing to the taller of the two. "Bit of a fool, if you ask me, but he's a good heart. And there, well, that's his brother. Cap Hatfield. He's about your age in this picture, I reckon."

"And they are Devil Anse's – sorry, Mr. Hatfield's – sons?"

"Two of them, at least."

I leaned in, looking at the picture a bit more closely. They were both fairly attractive…for antebellum hilly billies.

"What happened to his eye? Or is that just something on the photo?"

"Timber yard, accident," Flo replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Best shooter in the territory, though."

Suddenly, Flo shut the album and put it to the side. A clap of thunder sounded outside and the cat ran out from under the table, spooked.

"That's a really interesting story, Aunt Flo," I said, trying to be polite. Really, I was just confused.

"Oh, it ain't over, dear."

"Oh…okay…"

"But I daresay I don't have time to tell you everythin', so might as well just let you learn it for yourself." If I had the internet I'd go Wikipedia it…at some point. "Why don't you play me a song dear," Flo said, shuffling off to the living room. "Bring your guitar down."

I did as she asked, playing a few folky tunes, along with some classic rock songs I thought she might like: James Taylor, The Beatles, etc. Aunt Flo just rocked in her chair, knitting. Lightening flashed outside and the lights flickered.

"Oh dear," Flo said, as night approached. The woods along the end of the property were still visible through the rain, but it was getting dark quickly. "I think the cat got out."

"What?" I asked, and Flo motioned to the window. I looked at her, confused, but got out of my seat and peered outside. Sure enough, just out in the yard was that damn cat, looking back at me with yellow eyes.

"How'd you know - " I started, but Flo cut me off.

"Could you shoo him back in, Emma dear?" she asked, not looking up from her knitting. "Shouldn't be too hard, he comes right away."

Seriously?

There was another clap of thunder and the wind whistled sharply. I fought back an annoyed groan. "Sure, Aunt Flo," I said. "Let me just get my shoes on."

The umbrella I took was useless, the wind turning it inside out within seconds of me stepping outside. The cold rain pelted my face, and the lightening streaking across the sky would have been cool if I hadn't been standing near a massive oak tree. The cat trotted casually toward the tree line, as if it wasn't even bothered by the storm around us.

"Here, kitty, kitty," I grumbled to myself. Aunt Flo was fucking nuts.

That at turned and looked at me, and as I approached I felt brief burst of optimism, but as I came with touching distance, it skipped out of reach, down the hill into the woods.

The ground sloped downward and I grabbed a tree to steady myself. At least now that I was under some cover, the rain and wind wasn't so bad, but I was soaked to the bone and completely pissed off. The cat sat there, taunting me, just out of reach.

Willing to give it one last attempt, I jumped for the cat – my step landing conveniently on a loose stone.

"Shit!"

I stumbled forward, trying to keep my balance, but the slippery leave foiled that plan and sent me tumbling down the hill. As I came to a stop, my head slammed against a fallen log.

I blinked. My head swam and I felt sick to my stomach. Another flash of lightening tore across the sky and the rain dissipated. There was another roll of thunder, as I closed my eyes, that damn cat the last thing I saw before I lost consciousness.


	2. Miss Emma Yankee

I don't know how long I was knocked out. But I was pretty certain that Flo wasn't crazy enough to forget about me and probably should have called for help. Concussions can be serious, you know? As it was, when I woke up I was lying on the ground, my head still resting against that log and my back aching.

"What the fuck?" I groaned, sitting up and taking in my surroundings. The sun was low in the sky, still early morning, but it was a bright and cloudless day, leaving no indication of the storm of the night before. I could see the river glistening through the trees just further down the hill, beyond a dirt road which ran along it, about 100 yards away, hearing nothing but the rippling of the water and birds chirping, welcoming the new day. My head throbbed and I was certain I looked like a complete mess.

I seriously could not believe that Flo had left me out in the woods overnight. I wondered how appropriate it was to yell at an old lady.

I shoved myself to my feet, hoping Crazy Aunt Flo had a good stock of Tylenol in her house, and stumbled back up the hill. Only, when I got to the clearing…there was no house.

I blinked, wondering just how hard I had hit my head. Had I rolled down so far that I was near someone else's property? Had I concussion-walked down river somehow?

Whatever had happened, I wasn't at Crazy Aunt Flo's farm. There was no flowery garden, long drive and garage. There was tall oak tree providing shade over a wrap-around porch where I had attempted to knit a scarf the day before. All that was there, on the far side of the field, was a small wooden shack, a small garden with some vegetables, and a few chickens clucking about. Talk about back-woods.

Panicking wasn't going to help, and definitely wasn't in my nature. I had always been a roll with the punches kind of girl, but even I was a bit concerned about my situation. There wasn't much to do about it, though, other than figure out just where the hell I was and how to get back. Stretching my sore limbs, I stomped across the field towards the shack, hoping to use whoever lived there's phone to call Flo to come pick me up. As I approached the shack, however, and noticed the lanterns hanging in front of the door and the old wagon near the side, I started to worry that they might not even _have _a phone. Were there Amish in West Virginia. That would be just my luck.

Feeling completely embarrassed and stupid, I stepped up the two creaking stairs to the front porch, looking quizzically at the black cat lying lazily in the morning sun, before knocking. I stared at the cat…it couldn't be…

The door creaked open and I was certain I'd gone crazy.

"_Aunt Flo?"_ I asked, completely floored to see my aunt on the other side of the door. She looked at me in confusion for a moment, before recognition lit up on her wrinkled old features.

"Emma? Emma Anderson? Good lord, child, where have you been?" She motioned for me to come in and I stepped over the threshold, only this time, I wasn't met by classic southern charm and antiquity. I was met by the smell of farm and animals and smoked meat, of cats and straw and pipe smoke. What the hell?

It was one large room, with a door leading to a smaller room in the back. There was a wood-burning fireplace near the one wall, with a simple table and chairs and a rocker near by. There were old pictures on the wall, like the ones I had seen in the album the night before, a rifle leaning near the door, a basket of yarn and flowers drying near the one window.

"I was in the woods all night, apparently," I replied, suddenly feeling very angry and confused. "What's going on? Why didn't you look for me? And _where are we?_"

But Aunt Flo ignored me, moving slowly over to the stove where an old teakettle had started to whistle. "Tea, dear?"

"Um, no thanks." Tea was not going to fix things. Flo looked the same, despite her surroundings. Same hunched walk, same cane, same half moon glasses. Same craziness. She ignored me completely and set a cup of tea on the table and motioned for me to sit down. In frustration, I did as she asked, but didn't touch the drink.

"Looks like you took a mighty great knock to the head, dear," she said, sitting down across from me and giving me a smile, the same one I had seen the other night – as if she knew something that I didn't.

"Yeah, I hit it on a log or something. When I went to fetch your cat last night, remember? In that massive storm?"

"Let me get you a cool cloth to press on it," she said, completely ignoring my questions again. I sighed in annoyance, but felt myself relax a little bit. At least I was back and could get a hot shower soon, whenever we got back to the house.

I let Flo clean up my head and run a brush through my hair, before I questioned her again. "Aunt Flo…what is this place?" I asked, glancing around and finding myself missing the Internet-less house from before.

She chuckled. "Emma dear, I think you mean to ask _when_."

I blinked. "Sorry, Aunt Flo, I'm not quite following. Are we at some fishing cottage or something?"

"No, dear, this is my home."

Okay, she was officially crazy. "Aunt Flo," I started delicately, not wanting to shock her system. Alzheimer's, maybe? "I was just at your house. Yesterday, remember? This would be just one room in the place. Is it just up the road? Maybe you wandered down here…?"

But Aunt Flo just chuckled to herself. "You think I'm crazy, don't you child?" She smiled at me with clear eyes. "Well, I'm not, though you're about to think _you_ are in a moment."

I had no idea what to say. All I knew was that I wanted a shower and a nap. And maybe waffles for breakfast. I looked at Flo, starting to get impatient.

"What are you talking about?"

"Emma, child, I've been waiting for you for a while. Getting a bit worried you weren't going to show up. You've missed quite a bit."

She'd officially lost it. My anger left me as I felt sympathy for the poor woman. "Aunt Flo, I really think we should get you home. Maybe you should see a doctor or something and - "

"Dearie, I _am_ home. I'm sure it doesn't look the same as when you left it, but this is the same place. It's _you_ who are mistaken."

She seemed so confident, so sure of herself, that I found myself feeling a bit sick to my stomach. Maybe I was still knocked out and this was some weird dream?

"Emma, what year do you think it is?"

"It's 2014," I replied, already trying to plan in my head who I was going to call to come look after her. I certainly wasn't going to do it.

Her thin gray eyebrows went up slightly. "Well, that is a long way to come. I wasn't sure just from when you'd be coming. I'm sure there will be a lot to adjust to."

What?

Flo registered the confusion on my face. "Child, this here is 1882. You've come back quite a ways."

I let out a laugh, and then immediately felt guilty. I shouldn't laugh at a crazy old woman. "Right, Aunt Flo, I really need to take you home."

"Now you listen to me," she shot back sternly, so much so that I was slightly caught off guard and took a step back. Flo stood and hobbled over to me, staring me straight in the eye. "You're back here for a reason, Emma Grace Anderson. And you're going to let me help you and I don't want to hear no sass about it."

"Oh – okay, Aunt Flo," I replied, wondering if you were supposed to just go along with it when people when off the deep end like this. I suddenly found myself wishing I had paid attention to Lindy and her psychology nonsense. "What…what is that you want me to do?"

Flo relaxed a little bit and smiled. "Come with me," she said, turning toward the back room. "We need to get you out of those ridiculous clothes."

Huh?

An hour later, I found myself looking like I was straight out of a Civil War reenactment – long, gray cotton skirt, white blouse and some ridiculous undergarments that really didn't give any support. Flo had braided my hair into a long side-braid, and given me a pair of plain brown leather shoes that were horribly out of fashion.

"I think you forgot the corset," I remarked sarcastically, and she flicked the back of my ear sharply. "_Ouch._"

"I said no sass, now."

"Really, Flo, I don't understand what's going on." I had let her play around with me, but I was hungry and tired and just wanted to go home. "What's the point of all this? Is this some weird West Virginia tradition? Some hazing ritual, maybe?" I could just imagine that she was preparing to launch me into the West Virginia society at some weird debutante ball. At 20, I was a bit old for all that, but it didn't mean she wouldn't try.

"You can't show up as you were, people would think you're a devil. And we can't have that, now, can we?"

"I guess not." I didn't want to be called a devil, I suppose.

"Well, you're about as presentable as you're gonna get. I'll give you some money to buy new clothes for when you get to town. Luckily these old things fit you."

"Town?"

Flo sighed and looked at me with a sympathetic look. I appreciated the sympathy, but maybe she shouldn't be putting me through all this. "Emma, dear, sit down."

I did as she asked, seriously beginning to wonder when I was going to wake up.

"Emma, I told you about the Hatfields and the McCoys, didn't I?"

Jesus help me. "Yes, Aunt Flo. Last night. Remember?"

"Darlin' you need to understand you aren't where you think you are."

"I'm not sure where I am," I admitted angrily. "This is getting ridiculous, Flo."

"Emma, you've been sent back to 1882. Don't ask me how, but you have. You're in Mate Creek, West Virginia, just across the border from Kentucky and you're going to make a big difference here."

She sounded so sure of herself, so convinced of what she was saying, that I couldn't respond right away. I knew that time travel was impossible. But was Flo really so convinced that she had kept this weird shack and Victorian clothing on hand just to convince me that I had time traveled with her? Had she been planning this whole charade since I was little? That seemed just as impossible as the idea of me being in 1882.

"Flo," I said, rubbing my face in exhaustion. "I don't understand what's happening.

"Nor do I, child. Not really," she smiled wider. "All I know that you have been sent here to save that family. God works in mysterious ways."

"Save what family?"

"The Hatfields, child. Now, I'm going to give you a basket with some bread, and a note for Lavicy. Do _not_ give it to anyone but her, you hear me? It will take you the better part of the day to get town, so you best be on your way soon if you want to get there by dark. I'll give you money to rent a room for the night at the saloon and in the morning, ask how to get to the Hatfield homestead. Anyone should be able to give you directions. Remember, _go straight to Lavicy_. If anyone asks, you're my ward and I've sent you to live with them. You got that, Emma?"

I blinked at her. "Uh..yes?"

"Child, you need to learn to listen, better."

Before I realized what was happening, she was shooing me out the floor with her cane, but not before handing me a basket of food, and a small leather purse.

"Best keep that money out of site, and find a good keeping place for it at the Hatfields. Have a good trip dear – I'm sure I'll see you soon."

"Wait, wait!" I finally said sternly. "You're sending me to town?"

"Mate Creek, dear. Head down towards the river and follow the road for about ten miles."

"_Ten miles?"_

"That's right, so you best get a move on!"

And with that she shut the door. I was gobsmacked, and stood there for a moment completely unsure of what to do. 1882? Hatfields? What the hell was she on about? But, I was clearly getting no where with Aunt Flo, and the road was the best chance I had of finding someone with a cell phone in order to call for help. And if I didn't see a car, well then someone in town would have to know about Flo and her antics. I was over the embarrassment of how I was dressed now, and with a frustrated huff, set off back down the hill.

The road was a dirt one and looked like it had never seen a car. But, this was rural West Virginia...time travel was impossible and Aunt Flo was crazy, just like I'd been hearing my entire life. Worst case scenario, I was hallucinating or having some weird reaction to medication given to me for the concussion I received last night. I'd wake up in a nice, comfy hospital bed in no time. So, for the time being, I decided to just enjoy myself. Look at it like an adventure…with a crazy aunt pulling the strings.

I took off, wishing I had my iPod and sunglasses, eating some of the bread that Flo had left in the basket for me. This whole thing was ridiculous, I kept telling myself. Somewhere along this road would be a house or a service station or something where I could get help. And a Diet Coke. But the longer I walked, the more desperate I became, and as the sun hit the middle of the sky, I felt the tears well up in my eyes. I just wanted this to be over.

With a frustrated sigh, I sat down in the tall grass in the shade of a tree – exhausted, sore, and desperately wishing I knew what was going on. I sat there for a while, trying to cool off, before I stood back up, determined to find _someone_. I set off again.

Within ten minutes, my prayers seemed to be answered, as up ahead in the distance I saw two figures on horseback coming towards me. I wasn't big on talking to random people on the side of the road (stranger-danger and all), but this was an extreme circumstance.

"Excuse me!" I called out, waving my arm at them as they approached. The horses slowed to a walk and the two young men sat stride them looked at me with interest. "Excuse me, hi, um, I was hoping you might be able to help me…" I said quickly, noticing their attire – which looked like the male version of what I had on. This could not be happening.

"Hello, Ma'am," the closer of the two said, tipping his wide brimmed hat at me. "Are you alright?" He looked oddly familiar (and frustratingly attractive), with his sandy blonde hair, stubble and strong jaw line. His smile was wide and toothy, full of mischief and laughter. His white shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest exposing a tanned and toned chest – blonde chest hair glistening with sweat. I swallowed hard, his looks momentarily distracting me from my woes. Cowboy Bill here was quite a stud.

"Um, I'm a bit lost, to be honest," I admitted with embarrassment. Why couldn't it have been some family of four in a mini van on a road trip? It had to be a hot, horse-riding piece of man.

"Where you headin'?"

"Um, Mate Creek?"

"Well," he said with a wider smile. "You're headin' the wrong way for a start. Mate Creek's thatta way, about twelve miles or so." He pointed back to the direction I had come and I felt my head swim in the heat.

"Of course it is," I muttered, beginning to feel like I should sit down again.

"You ain't from around here, are ya?" He said, still smiling.

"New York City," I replied trying to focus on him and not how fuzzy my head was feeling.

"A Yank?" He let out a whoop of laughter. "And a city girl at that! You sure out of your e-lee-ment."

"A Yank?" If Flo was playing some sort of joke on me, she had really done an amazing job…like, I was impressed. Getting the townsfolk in on it? That took commitment. "Listen, if I could just - " I was going to ask to borrow a cell phone or something, but then I caught sight of the dead deer hanging from the back of Cowboy's horse, blood dripping from it's mouth. That, plus the heat and my dehydration, was enough to make me feel faint.

"Woah there," Cowboy said, as I sank to the ground and my eyes fogged over. He and his companion swung down from their horses and rushed over to me. "Fetch her some water, Cap," the cute one said, as he held me upright. His friend messed around at his horse, while I tried to regain my focus.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, trying to ignore the fact that, no matter how good he looked, he smelled like he had been sleeping in a barn. "I'm just a bit hot…"

"And it looks like you got a goose egg on your head," he replied, brushing my hair aside, lightly. The fellow called Cap returned and held out a skin of water.

"Here," he said softly, his voice deeper and more gravelly than his friend's, and he held up the bottle for me to drink. I took a sip, already feeling a bit better – that was until I looked at him more closely.

I choked on my water and Cap sat back, looking annoyed. It was _him_, the one from the picture Flo had shown me, the one with the cloudy eye. He was real, alive, right in front of me…but he had been alive over a hundred and thirty years ago. Well, I now knew I must have been delirious. But there he was, milky white eye and all. The black and white picture really didn't do him justice – it was hard to make out his other features before, but now I could see that his good eye was blue, his hair was pale blonde, and his face, though still stern, was young and handsome. Even with the eye.

The cute one laughed. "Yeah, Cap has that reaction with girls. Don't worry, Miss, he won't bite."

Cap looked less amused and I immediately felt guilty. It wasn't because of his eye that I was surprised…it was because of him in general. And that I was beginning to believe what Flo had been telling me. But…it wasn't _possible_.

I cleared my throat, my head now focused more since that shot of adrenaline. "Thank you, really, I'm fine. So, um, that way, you said?" I looked back down the dusty dirt road, where waves of heat radiated as far as the eye could see. It was hot for April.

"Well now," Cowboy replied, "seeing as you can barely stand on your own, it wouldn't be proper of us to let you just wander on by yourself. We're heading to Mate Creek too, ain't we Cap? We'll take you."

The idea of spending more time than necessary with these two boys straight out of the history books wasn't really what I had in mind. But the idea of walking that far was even less appealing. I was too tired to argue. _Just go with it_, I told myself. _You'll figure it out eventually_.

"Um, okay."

"Well, alrighty then," he grinned, before scooping me up bridal style with a swift movement.

"Woah," I said, grabbing his shoulder.

"Looks like I've swept you off your feet, haven't I?" he grinned again, carrying me over to Cap's horse, where the one-eyed boy was already perched. "I'm Johnse Hatfield, by the way. And this here's my brother, Cap."

Johnse and Cap Hatfield. My head hurt.

"Um, it's nice to meet you," I said, squealing a bit as Johnse pushed me up on to the horse behind his brother. I gave the back of Cap's head an apologetic grimace, since I was so unceremoniously plopped down behind him. "I'm Emma. Emma Anderson."

"Well Miss Emma Anderson," Johnse said, handing my basket and purse. "It's a pleasure." He tipped his hat and gave me a grin.

A moment later he was back on his own horse and kicked off. Cap did the same, and the sudden lurch had me grab onto his waist to stabilize myself. He looked over his right shoulder so he could use his good eye to look at me.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," I said back, trying to figure out the bumping and lurching movement of the horse and trying to best situate myself. "Just never ridden before."

"Ha!" Johnse let out another whoop of laughter next to us. "Never ridden?" he called out in disbelief. "What do you Yankee girls _do_ then?"

I wanted to reply that we go to the mall and the movies and get coffee, usually in our cars or on the busy or subway, but I held my tongue. If for some impossible reason I _was_ in the 1880's, talking about things that weren't invented yet probably wasn't the best idea. Though I still wasn't sure if I wasn't believing what my head was telling me – that this was all real.

"Hatfield, you said?" I asked Cap, trying to lighten the odd tension between us. "Do you know a Lavicy Hatfield?"

"That's our Mama," Johnse replied, even though I hadn't really been directing it at him. He smiled. "You know our Mama?"

How do I explain this? "Um, I'm the ward of Florence Anderson – she sent me to meet her. Give her a letter." Ward…what a weird word. Made me sound like I was some sort of orphan…which, I thought with a gulp, I sort of was now. I had started out as one and was one again. I tried to ignore the shot of pain that burst through my heart.

"Well ain't that perfect," Johnse replied. "Means we don't need to stop at Mate Creek no more, we'll just head home."

That did sound perfect. Maybe the faster I got to this Lavicy, the faster I could be out of this nightmare.

The rest of the ride was quiet, aside from the 'oofs' I uttered whenever my chin slammed into Cap's back. Horse riding was not as elegant as it looked.

Eventually, having apparently bypassed Mate Creek - I saw nothing that resembled a town of any sort – we arrived at another wooden cabin, resting at the top of a hill. It had been hours and I was exhausted and sore, so it was a welcome relief to see some place to rest, no matter how rustic it was. There were a few other buildings around of similar make – a barn, a chicken coop, a woodshed, and numerous children running around the property, hooting and hollering as we rode up.

Johnse and Cap pulled the horses to a stop just at the front of the house, dismounted and tied the horses to a post. I tried to follow their example, throwing my leg over the side and trying to slide off on my stomach. The ground was further away than expected, though, and I fell back – right into the sturdy chest of Cap. He held my arms to keep me upright, and when I looked back at him, his face was still as stern as ever.

"Thanks," I said quietly, wondering if he hated me for how I reacted earlier. It was completely inappropriate and his eye really wasn't that bad at all. In hopes of showing him it didn't bother me, I caught his gaze and held it. We looked at each other for a long moment, to the point where I thought it was a bit awkward, until he let go and moved to the porch.

"Come on in and our Mama will make you up a nice supper," Johnse said, taking the steps two at a time and striding through the open door with unbridled confidence. "Best cook this side of the Tug, I swear it!" Cap was more reserved, following his brother quietly.

Swallowing hard, I followed the two blonde men, wondering just what was in store for me. Any signs of the 21st Century were unnervingly absent, and the knot in my stomach was tightening each minute this thing went on. Hoping I would walk in on some TV cameras and some weird West Virginia version of 'Punk'd', I walked up the front steps and over the threshold, immediately overtaken by the smell of freshly baked bread and a variety of spices. Nope, still pre-industrial revolution, apparently. The house was very open, though dark due to the lack of windows, and boy and girl were sitting at the large wooden table in the middle of what I assumed was the kitchen. The boy looked to be about fifteen, the girl a bit younger. They looked up from their reading when we entered, their eyes falling on me. A tall women was working at the wood fire stove, her back to us and dark brown hair pulled up into a loose bun.

"Hey there, Mama," Johnse greeted, going up and kissing her on the cheek.

"Back already, boys?" she asked, without turning around. "Get anything good out hunting?"

"Yeah, we got a buck, actually. I'll head out to skin it after we eat. And we found us something else, actually," Johnse replied, a sneaky grin on his face. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do. Cap had taken of his hat and sat down, though his eyes were on me.

When their mother didn't turn around right away, Johnse shifted impatiently and nudged her slightly. "Mama, let me introduce to you Miss Emma Anderson." Mrs. Hatfield turned around as Johnse bubbled on. "We found her out near Tug Fork, just wanderin'. She's a Yankee. We don't get many of them, now do we?"

Lavicy Hatfield turned around and looked at me, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I gave a small, awkward wave, my stomach sinking as I recognized her from the photograph. She was older than when it was taken, but still beautiful. This wasn't ending.

"Um, hello."

"Hello," she replied, her gaze still focused on me as if she was trying to remember something. "Emma Anderson, you said?"

"Uh, just Emma is fine."

"She's from New York," Johnse added, smiling at me proudly like I was some prized collection item. I had a feeling I was going to need to get used to feeling like some sort of exotic bird.

Lavicy paled a bit as she took me in. "Boys, why don't you go skin that deer now – supper won't be ready for a while."

"But Ma, we just got back," Johnse whined, his mouth stuffed with a piece of bread.

"Now, Johnse," she said, smacking the back of his head. "Don't sass me none. You too, Cap. Get your brother and sister to help."

I took a deep breath and looked back at Mrs. Hatfield after the others left the room. She had now taken a seat at the table, looking as though she couldn't stand much longer. She ran a hand over her face – a face that was worn and sunned, but still beautiful. "My Lord, I never would have believed it."

I stood there, awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Then, I remembered the note from Flo, and took it out of my dress pocket. "Um, Mrs. Hatfield, my aunt, Florence Anderson, asked me to deliver this to you."

At the mention of the name, Lavicy looked up at me briefly before taking the letter. Opening it and reading it, she stood and paced back and forth across the room. She must have read it three or four times before she finally sighed and looked at me.

"The Lord works in mysterious ways," she said, looking at me, her eyes wide amazement.

She went over to a chest on the far side of the room. Rummaging through, she withdrew an old silver picture frame and brought it over to me. I took it from her, hesitantly, and had to check myself from dropping it when I saw the photograph inside.

"My great-aunt Florence told me when I was a girl that one day a young woman from a different time would come into my life. I believed it then and waited…waiting every day hoping you'd show up on the edge of the woods. As the years went by and I grew older and new better, I obviously thought they were just foolish tales that Florence told."

I stared at the picture of Crazy Aunt Flo – or Mrs. Hatfield's Great Aunt Florence – looking exactly the same as she had just last night in her living room and how she had this morning when I saw her. Only she was sitting with a younger version of Lavicy and Devil Anse Hatfield.

"This is fucking insane," I muttered, trying to work it all out in my head, trying to convince myself it was still all a dream. But it wasn't…it couldn't be.

Mrs. Hatfield let out a quick breathe in surprise. "She said you'd have a mouth on you."

"This can't be happening." I sat down heavily, my head dropping into my hands. "This can't be real. This morning when I saw her I thought it was some sick joke she was playing."

"This morning?" Lavicy asked. "Miss Anderson, Florence has been dead for over two months now."

I blinked. "Dead? No, I just saw her at her place…or _some_ place…this morning. And I was with her last night. She's more alive than I expected her to be to be honest."

Mrs. Hatfield sat down next to me, looking just as amazed as I felt. "Miss Emma Anderson from New York," she said, "I have no idea what on earth is happening, whether it's witchcraft or I'm just going plum crazy. But you're here now, clearly for a reason. Florence entrusted you to me and my family and we'll keep you, just like she asks." Lavicy fingered the letter in her hand. "I remember the story. She described you when I was little, I'd know you anywhere. Chestnut hair, blue eyes…she even said you'd have music written on your skin, though I don't know what that could mean."

My breath hitched. Slowly, I pulled my skirt up, revealing the music notes tattooed on my ankle that there was no way Aunt Flo could know about it. I felt sick to my stomach. Lavicy looked like she might cry.

"What else did she say?" I asked, my voice tight.

Lavicy looked at me, her eyes glossy, her face pale. "She said that you'd save the life of my son."

I blanched. "I…what?"

"She's not been wrong, yet, Miss Emma." Lavicy said, suddenly looking like she believed everything without question. I wasn't quite there yet. "You're here, aren't you?"

I must have looked like a fish out of water, my mouth opened and closed so many times without any noise coming out.

"Mama!" The girl from earlier came running into the room. "Pa's home and he's brought Uncle Ellison and Cotton Top!"

Lavicy finally tore her eyes away from me. "Help me get more chairs, then, Nancy. Supper will be ready soon." Nancy looked over at me with curiosity.

"This is Emma," Lavicy said. "She'll be staying with us for a while."

"Hello, I'm Nancy." She must have been about fourteen, but held herself like she was a full grown adult. "It will be nice to have another older girl around." How quickly she accepted me was a bit surprising, but I didn't think I could be surprised by anything anymore. I sat there for a moment, watching as Nancy and Lavicy bustled around the kitchen, when a new voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Can I help at all, Mrs. Hatfield?"

I looked to the stairs and saw a tall girl, about my age, with flowing blonde hair and a pale, thin frame. She was beautiful, there was no doubt, but a little wispy as well. She also didn't have the dusky Hatfield coloring like the rest of them.

"Roseanna, this is Emma Anderson," Lavicy said, with none of the warmth she showed to her other children. "Emma, this is Roseanna McCoy. She's been staying with us for about a year now."

"Hello," Roseanna greeted sweetly and meek as a mouse. I was confused – she was a McCoy and from what I knew the Hatfields hated the McCoys, but I wasn't going to question it. No point in sticking my nose where it doesn't belong.

Roseanna McCoy was holding a baby in her arms, and for a moment I wondered if it was hers, but then four more children came tumbling down the stairs behind her. Roseanna was much too young to be mother to them all and she must have seen the shock and confusion on my face.

"I've been keeping the children occupied upstairs for Mrs. Hatfield," she said with a smile, before looking down at the small faces. "Do you all want to say hello to Miss Anderson?"

One by one the children introduced themselves to me, despite their young ages. Oldest to youngest they went, the first being no older than twelve and the youngest maybe four: Elliot, Elizabeth, Mary and Elias. "And this here is baby Detroit," Roseanna said, looking at the infant in her arms.

"Give him to me and I'll feed him while you set the table," Lavicy said, taking her son away from Roseanna. I barely said anything, trying to keep them all straight. My head was swimming.

"Hey there, darlin'," Johnse said, strolling back into the house, making a beeline for the blonde. He gave her a quick peck on the lips, before turning to grin at me. "See you've met Miss Emma Yankee."

"Emma was just gettin' introduced to the children," Lavicy said. "She'll be stayin' with us for a time."

"Who's gonna be stayin' with us?"

I turned to the door again to see a tall man with a short beard and pipe hanging from his lips. A revolver hung at his belt and he radiated authority. There was no mistaking his intimidating figure. Devil Anse.

Cap stood behind him with another man, younger then Devil Anse but similar in looks, and a third – a boy with almost white hair and crystal blue eyes. I gulped. Devil Anse was incredibly intimidating in person, more so that than picture could have let on. He stared me coolly and not without interest.

"This is Miss Emma Anderson," Lavicy said, coming to stand next to me. I saw her discreetly shove Aunt Flo's letter into her apron pocket. "Florence Anderson's ward from New York."

"Florence Anderson's dead. And I didn't realize she had a ward." Anse was not one to mince words, not saying more than absolutely necessary.

I opened my mouth to respond – though I had no idea what I was about to say, but Lavicy cut in.

"Word didn't reach up north about Florence's passing. Miss Anderson just showed up today. I told her we'd take her in."

Devil Anse continued to stare at me, but addressed his wife. Everyone in the room hung on their interaction.

"Where are you parents?" He asked me, but once again, Lavicy took over.

"Dead," she replied and I fought the urge to look at her. "Fire took them, God rest their souls." Well, it wasn't really a lie.

Devil Anse shot his wife a hard look. "And does _she_ speak, this Miss Emma Anderson of New York?"

I gulped. "Yes…Yes, sir." I stopped, trying to think of something else to say. He looked at me some more.

"How'd you get here?"

"We found her by the road, Pa," Johnse jumped in quickly and Devil Anse looked at his son. Johnse didn't seem to know when and when not to talk.

"Boy, be quiet." Johnse promptly shut his mouth. His father took a drag of his pipe and then propped his hands on his waist with a heavy sigh. "We've too many mouths to feed as it is," he said. "Can't be taken in just any body, now can we. We've already got one lost girl."

I saw Roseanna shrink back out of the corner of my eye.

"She's got money, husband," Lavicy said. "Florence left her a good amount. She can help me with the children and the house chores, and can contribute."

"I really don't want to be a burden," I finally spoke up, wondering when this dream would be over. "I'm sure I can get a room in town or something until…"

Until what? I came out of whatever coma I was in? Until it was 2014 again?

"Nonsense," Devil Anse said sharply, as if I were an idiot. "A young woman in a room all by herself – unheard of." He sighed. "You are practically kin, I suppose."

Lavicy relaxed considerably beside me. Apparently, she had won the day. Devil Anse had given in. "So what's for supper?"


	3. Baptism By Fire

I forced myself to believe it was all real, to try and fit in amongst this Antebellum hill-billy family. Dinner was an eye-opening affair. With all the children off at one table, I sat with the adults at the bigger table, Roseanna on one side, and Anse's brother, Ellison on the other. Ellison was very nice and asked the appropriate questions of me – where in New York I was from, how my trip was, etc. I answered them under the careful eye of Lavicy, who was clearly waiting to make sure I didn't say something that would arouse suspicion. But I wasn't an idiot. If this was really happening, telling them about my apartment in Brooklyn and my English Lit degree at UNC wouldn't go over well. Unless a question was put directly at me, I kept my mouth shut, and despite my hunger barely ate. I didn't think my stomach could keep it down, and besides, the food wasn't exactly what I was used to. Venison stew? No, thanks.

I found myself automatically following Roseanna's lead for the rest of the night, shuffling upstairs where she set up a pallet on the floor where I'd be sleeping until another bed could be brought in. Four girls were already in the queen sized one in the middle of the room. Lavicy game me a night gown and told me we'd go to town one day to get some material for new clothes. I didn't say that I hoped I'd wake up back home.

I was convinced, when I laid down on that lumpy, make shift mattress of wool and straw that when I opened my eyes again, I'd be back to my normal life and this whole situation was just part of my overactive imagination. Maybe some weird coping mechanism that I was going through because of Mom and Dad. Whatever it was, I was sure it was going to end.

It didn't.

The next few days were a real learning curve. I went about doing everything I was told, not wanting to make a fuss and hoping that it would all be over soon. Everything was so different, though.

Sleeping on a pallet on the floor, rather than a bed. Eating bland porridge, smoked meat and vegetable soup rather than cheeseburgers, Casear salads and pancakes. Bathing in a big silver bucket with luke-warm water. Wearing a dress every day. Not shaving my legs. Sharing a room with four other girls…There were a lot of weird things to get used to.

By the end of the week, though, I realized that I might just need to get over it. Something had happened to me…time travel, a coma, _something_…and I needed to adjust. My mom always told me to look at the positives, so as I settled in to live in 1882, that's what I tried to do. I tried to look at it like camp. Or a Civil War themed amusement park. A new Disneyland adventure…Where I had to work in the field and help beat the laundry down by the stream.

Lavicy, thankfully, was immensely helpful. She took me under her wing and taught me everything I needed to do and reprimanded me when I did something that wasn't quite proper (such as crossing my legs and swearing). Roseanna was super sweet and probably looked at me like some poor, innocent city girl, completely out of my element – which wasn't far off. The children saw me as some sort of pet, to be honest. They loved listening to me talk and making fun of my accent.

The older boys were a bit different. I didn't see them much during the day, since they all went off to work at the timber yard that Anse owned, but in the evenings and such they were charming and friendly. Johnse, who was clearly head over heels in love with Roseanna, teased me constantly. My initial attraction to him diminished slightly as I got to know him – he was a bit of an idiot, to be honest, but a good-hearted one. Anse didn't talk to me much, he asked me a few questions about my family (which I answered as honestly as I could, under the close eye of Lavicy), but beyond that didn't take much interest. Robert E, the middle boy at age 15, acknowledged me as maybe another Roseanna – some young woman shoved into his house and taking up space at the table. But he was friendly enough. Ellison, who was Anse's brother and had been there the first night, was very nice and pleasant to talk to, but he lived a few miles away with his son, Cotton, who had some mental handicap. Cotton was a sweet kid, probably 16 or so, but acted like he was about five. He loved my accent – or lack thereof – and kept asking me to say different words, trying to repeat it back to me the same way. He was blown away when I started speaking a few phrases in different languages.

And then there was Cap. Cap was different from them all, but pulled a few of their characteristics into his own personality. He was kind like his mother, stern like his father, handsome like his brother, and every once in a while I would see a flash of mischief in his eye whenever he played with his little siblings. When he looked at me, it was always with curiosity, and an intensity that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. We didn't speak much, if at all, but enough was being communicated through looks and body language.

I noticed things about him, little quirks and traits that were uniquely him. He loved to read and write, and every evening he sat by a lantern with some book in his hands, taking notes in the margins. Right now, he was onto _Frankenstein_, and read aloud to Robert E and Nancy. At first, the younger children were there too, but Lavicy, hearing bits of the story, put an end to it out of fear it would give them nightmares. I sat nearby, practicing my knitting and listening. I had read it in 8th grade, but I found myself loving Cap's southern twang. Every afternoon, after he got back from the timer yard and before supper, Cap practiced his shooting. His aim was impeccable, the best in the state, I was told by Johnse, a hint of pride mingled with jealousy in his voice. Cap was modest about it; whenever he made a particularly impressive shot, he cocked his head to the side and gave a small smile, not letting the hooting and hollering of his siblings go to his head.

Above all else, though, it was clear that he idolized his father. Anse was not one to really give his sons compliments – I don't think I heard anything more than a 'well done' when Elliot showed him a horse he had widdled from a piece of wood. Whenever he entered the room, though, Cap was at attention, did his bidding without question, and always looked to impress his father. It was adorable. And before the week was up, I could feel myself starting to crush on him. It was a bit of a worry, to be honest.

I spent the days doing chores and trying not to complain – before, my chores (when I had them) included making my bed and emptying the dishwasher. Now, I had to do all the laundry, hand wash all the dishes, scatter hay for the animals, fetch water from the well, milk the cows (Roseanna and the children had fits of laughter watching me learn) and do all other sorts of manual labor. To pass the time when I was alone, I sang to myself, trying to keep some of my dad's favorite songs alive and well in my head. The evenings were much more pleasant, as the family all gathered together. Being an only child, I had never really experienced big families. At first, I was overwhelmed with the noise and the activity and the amount of time and attention everyone demanded. But I soon found myself loving it – there was always someone to talk to, a new story to tell, an opinion to share. At night, once everyone was fed and the younger children put to bed, the rest of us would gather on the porch or in front of the fire place. Anse and the boys would chat about the day, while Lavicy, Roseanna and Nancy sewed. I kept pretending to knit – everything was coming out a bit wonky – and quietly listened to the conversations. It was as though I had been there all along.

My fifth night in the house, Devil Anse's brothers came over, as did his Uncle Jim. It was difficult to keep track of all the Hatfields and just how they were all related. Big families were a thing here, and it took a lot of energy to keep up with them all.

I was surprised to learn that Anse wasn't the eldest of his brothers, especially since he was the one everyone seemed to take their cues from. The oldest was actually Uncle Wall, who was the Justice of the Peace in Mate Creek and a judge. He was a stern man, with a salt and pepper beard and dark eyes. While he wasn't the most approachable, Wall certainly didn't have the temper that Anse was reported to have. After Wall and Anse was Ellison, who I had met my first day. He had a young, bright face, with a rust colored beard. I didn't know much about his story - only that Cotton Top's real name was Ellison Mounts and was his illegitimate son, who he had taken in after Cotton's mother passed away. The entire family was good to Cotton, despite his difficulties, and they were also fiercely protective. Cotton's positivity was something that no one could deny, and he never failed to make you smile. I even saw Devil Anse chuckle once at his antics.

Elias, or Good Lias, was the youngest of the brothers, and he really just seemed happy to be there. He played with the kids, joked with the adults, and was just pleasant company in general. Lias looked incredibly similar to the last person to join us for dinner, his uncle Jim Vance, though they couldn't have been more different in personalities.

Jim Vance was rough, crude, and rather unpleasant. As soon as he learned I was from the North he spat at my feet and made some comment about a "piece of Yankee bull" under his breath. I heard it, and I was sure Anse did as well, but he didn't say anything. Much to my dismay, Cap seemed to look up to Jim almost as much as he did his Pa, though I couldn't really see why.

I was quizzed with the normal questions about my family ("_Only_ child?" "What type of law did your Pa practice?") and life in the city, answering as Lavicy and I had practiced. The menfolk soon lost interest in me, however, and went right back to chatting about work and eventually, the McCoys.

My ears perked up at this, just as Roseanna's cheeks reddened. Jim Vance had apparently gotten in a bit of an altercation at the saloon the night before.

"Damn McCoys best watch their back," he grumbled, petting his dog on the head. "I won't have none of them disrespecting me no more. Next one I see gets a bullet between the eyes."

"That's enough talk," Lavicy said sternly, shooting a look in my direction, which Jim caught. I had raised my eyebrows involuntarily at his comment, as it seemed a bit harsh, but I quickly wiped my face of all emotion. Unfortunately, Jim caught my reaction.

"Don't want me upsettin' the Yankee?" he asked mockingly. I was surprised Anse let him talk to Lavicy that way, but Cap's father just took another drag of his pipe. "Well, she's here now. Right in the thick of it. Best she learns or else she's gonna have herself a baptism by fire, I'll tell you."

"Can we not talk about this?" Johnse said with a groan, partly for the benefit of Roseanna, I was sure, and partly because I think he was tired of hearing about it.

"We sure as hell will talk about _this_," Jim Vance snapped back, glaring at his great nephew. "This is your family, boy! This is about respect, revenge and honor. You remember when those cowards Paris and Samuel McCoy killed your cousin Bill Staton a few years back? Murdered in cold blood, he was."

"I ain't surprised by it none! Bill was a drunk and had it comin'," Johnse responded, "mouthin' off like he was."

Jim Vance suddenly had a thunderous look on his face. "That ain't the point!" he hollered, standing up and looming over Johnse, who now looked like a boy of eight rather than a man of 21 underneath the angry gaze of Jim. "Them damn McCoys ain't nothin' but lying, thievin', murderin' sons of bitches and soon as you realize that, the better." He calmed himself down with a swig of whiskey, before sitting back down and mumbling to himself, "blinded by that McCoy whore of yours," just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Johnse jumped out of his seat in defense of Roseanna, but was immediately held back by Ellison and Cap, while Jim sat in his chair and laughed with condescension.

"Ah sit down, boy, I'm only teasing." It was clear he wasn't. It was clear he hated the McCoys, Roseanna included, with every fiber of his being.

Roseanna was on the verge of tears but still had not made a peep. Lias, Lavicy and Wall all looked tired; Anse had the decency to look annoyed with his uncle.

"I think we best call it a night," he said calmly, but the authority was still there.

I slowly released the grip I had on the side of my chair, not realizing just how tightly I was holding it. I had witnessed drunken altercations between family members, usually at holidays over how to cook a turkey or which football team should win. But never over a murder. Or someone's girlfriend who was sitting right there. The visitors left one by one, and I made a point not to make eye contact with Jim Vance, or even give him a proper farewell. He was on my shit list.

Soon it was me, Johnse and Cap cleaning up the room – putting chairs back and such. Lavicy and Roseanna were doing dishes on the other side of the room, without speaking one word to each other. I couldn't get used to the coldness of some of the Hatfield family, especially when it was so opposite the warmth of others.

"Bet you're wondering what all that was about," Johnse said to me, helping me move a bench back to the kitchen table. "Wouldn't blame ya, if you were."

"It's okay," I replied, even though I was desperately curious. "It's none of my business, really."

"Well, it sort of is now," Cap said and I looked over at him. "Jim was right, you're here now. You're against them just as much as we are."

"We ain't _against_ nobody," Johnse replied, dropping his voice and looking over his shoulder to see if Roseanna had heard. "It's because of stupid stuff with Pa that happened years ago. Ain't got nothin' to do with us."

"You know that ain't true, Johnse."

"Yeah, well, it's crazy. Roseanna and I ain't done nothin'. Hell, I don't even care about what her brothers did to me. All that this shit has done is kept me from marryin' the woman I love."

Johnse, no matter how dimwitted he was at times, was a bit of hopeless romantic. It was quite cute.

"What did her brothers do?" I asked, folding a blanket.

"Shot him," Cap replied before Johnse could sugar coat it.

"Seriously?" I asked in disbelief. "They _shot you_? Why?"

Johnse sent a glare at his brother before sighing. "It was all a misunderstandin', ya see. They saw me kissin' on Roseanna and thought I'd violated her, stolen her virtue and such."

"And had you?"

"No, course not," he replied, but not very convincingly. I gave him a look. "Anyway, it don't matter now, does it? They didn't kill me and I healed up good as new."

"It's all very Romeo and Juliet, if you ask me," I commented with a shrug. This was met with silence and I looked up to see the two of them staring at me with blank expressions. "Romeo and Juliet? William Shakespeare?" They blinked.

When I first said it, I hadn't been thinking. But I hadn't really made a mistake – _Romeo and Juliet_ wasn't exactly a new concept. But, then again, even with Cap reading quite a bit, I didn't expect the English poet had been on his 9th grade reading list. (I had only learned that they stopped their schooling at 16, essentially, and were all homeschooled). "It's a play," I explained. "Star-crossed lovers, Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet, from two feuding families. There are misunderstandings, family rivalry, and revenge murders…but through it all Romeo and Juliet love each other, despite what their families think. It's really beautiful, actually. The most famous speech…hold on, let me remember it. 'Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet.'"

Johnse and Cap both looked at me – Johnse with a silly grin and Cap…well, Cap looked impressed. I felt myself blushing.

"I didn't understand half of what you just said, Miss Yankee, but I think I like it," Johnse beamed.

"The girl's asking him to give up his family name," Cap offered, not taking his eyes off of me. "And if he won't, she'll do it for him."

"Exactly," I replied with a smile. "She goes on to ask why names are so important. 'That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.' She doesn't care what his name is, as long as he is her Romeo."

"I think I like this play," Johnse said. "I really need to read more."

"But names are apart of you," Cap interjected, looking at me. "In an ideal world, you wouldn't have to sacrifice anythin', but the world ain't ideal. Your name and your family, they define who you are."

"Only if you let them, Cap." He stared at me for a moment and I stared back, wondering if I had offended him. Johnse, as ever, interrupted the moment.

"So what happens?"

"What?" I looked at him.

"What happens to Romeo and Juliet? Do their families make up?"

"Oh…well, no." I mentally slapped myself. "They…well, they die in the end." Johnse's face fell.

"Well, that don't sound too romantic to me."

"It's a tragedy," I said quickly, trying to back track a bit. "I mean, it's horribly sad, but also really beautiful. It happens that Romeo kills Juliet's cousin and gets banished, so Juliet pretends to commit suicide so she can be with him, but Romeo thinks Juliet's _actually_ killed herself because so she was so upset they couldn't be together, so then he kills himself to be with her in death, but then she comes back to life and sees him dead so she stabs herself with his dagger." The boys blinked and I realized I should probably just give up. "You know what, forget I said anything."

Johnse took a breath and looked at me, shaking his head slightly. "You Yankees read some depressin' stuff, let me tell you. Best not tell that story to Roseanna, though," he added in an undertone, before heading over to his girlfriend.

I looked back to Cap who had a small, amused smile on his face. I flushed with embarrassment. I really should just learn to keep my mouth shut.

"Mama," Robert E said, bursting into the room. "I just saw Charlie O'Connell down near the road when I was sayin' bye to Uncle Ellison. He said there's a barn dance at the Wolford's tonight. Can I go?"

Lavicy looked at her son. "Is this because you want to see young Mariah?" she asked, eyebrows raised. Johnse wolf whistled and Robert E glared.

"Everyone's gonna be there."

Lavicy sighed. "Did you ask your father?"

"He said to ask you."

"It's already late," she said, but looked like she might give in. "Alright, you can go. But Only if your brothers go with you."

Robert E turned to Johnse and Cap, eyes pleading.

"What do you say, Roseanna?" Johnse asked, smiling at her. "Feel like a dance?"

"I'm not feelin' too good," she said, though I could tell she was lying. The conversation earlier had really gotten to her. "Might just stay and get some rest. You go, though."

"You sure?"

Cap turned to me. "Interested in seein' a real southern barn dance?"

I was, actually, but looked to Lavicy to approval. "Go," she said with a kind smile. "You've not left the house since you got here. Do you some good to meet some new people."

I grinned genuinely for the first time since I'd been there. Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the back of a wagon with Nancy and Robert E, while Cap and Johnse drove us down the hill.

It was a bit of an odd sight, I suppose, an actual barn all decorated, with a stage and loads of young folks dancing and mingling. A barn social was something that I saw in movies about undefeated Texas high school football teams hoping to win the big one or towns were the mayor has decided that dancing is prohibited, only to be undermined by a smooth talking Kevin Bacon. But here I was, at a barn owned by the Wolford family, right near the river, with lanterns and streamers and string band fiddling away. It was surreal.

"There's Mariah," Robert E said, jumping off the back of the wagon and dashing over to a pretty young girl was dark hair. I looked at Johnse, who smirked at his little brother.

"Ah, young love," he grinned at me and I rolled my eyes. When I was just with Johnse or Cap or the younger kids, I felt more at ease, more like I could be myself. I didn't need to watch my every step around them, and it seemed they appreciated my sarcasm and "Yankee-ness" a bit more than the adults.

"You're one to talk," I replied, moving to get down from the wagon. Cap appeared in front of me, holding his hand out for me to take.

"Thanks," I said, looking at him. I was still finding Cap hard to read. Unlike Johnse, who said just about whatever popped into his head, Cap played his cards close to his chest. Like his father, he was stoic most of the time, but I had seen him laugh and smile with his brothers and sisters a few times. He wasn't completely without a sense of humor. Our discussion about Romeo and Juliet earlier felt like we had crossed into a deeper level of friendship.

"Hey, Hatfields!"

We looked at a group of young men who were drinking by the side of the barn. They waved us over, and I looked to Johnse and Cap.

"Hey, come meet some of our friends," Johnse said to me.

"I'm going to go see Annabelle and Penny," Nancy said, looking to her brothers for approval.

"Alright, but don't go runnin' off anywhere without sayin' something," Johnse said, as she skipped off into the crowd.

I followed the two blonde boys to the cart where four men were sitting and drinking.

"Howdy Cap, Johnse," the oldest one said, nodding to them both. His hair was black save for a flash of white across the front. He was older than both Cap and Johnse, possibly close to thirty, a bit too old to be at a barn dance, if you asked me. "Who's the girl?"

"This is Emma Anderson," Johnse introduced me. "She's come to stay with us for a while. Emma, this is Tom Wallace, though everyone calls him Skunkhair. This here is French Ellis, Lark Varney, and the one at the back is Alex Messer." I smiled at them in greeting. They all seemed friendly enough, though I doubted I would be calling anyone 'Skunkhair'.

"Nice to meet you guys."

They glanced at each other and grinned.

"Woowee," French said, elbowing his friend sharply. "We got a Yankee girl on our hands, Larky."

"You best watch yourself, Miss Emma," Alex said, leaning forward with a smile. "You'll be mighty popular, I bet my life on it."

"Really?" I asked, slightly unsure if he was kidding or not. "I'd think the Yankee bit would make me _un_popular." I'd gotten enough grief from Jim Vance over the past week to know that the Civil War was still alive and well for a lot of folks.

"Fifteen years ago, maybe," Tom said with an easy shrug. "But right now, I'd say you'd be quite a catch for some young fella." He winked and I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Nice try, but I'm not into skunks."

The boys hooted and hollered; even Cap cracked a smile. Girls who spoke their minds were a rare commodity, it seemed.

"Well, she is a pistol, ain't she, Johnse?" Lark asked. "You got yourself a handful!"

"Oh, we ain't together," Johnse replied sheepishly, looking at me. "Roseanna just ain't feelin' all that well so she decided to stay back at home."

The boys glanced at one another. Apparently, Roseanna didn't have much interaction with them. As a McCoy, I doubt she was ever really invited.

"We best be headin' in," Cap said. "I promised Betsy Lightbridge a dance." His friends clapped and wolf-whistled and I rolled my eyes. Men really were the same no matter what century you were in.

Johnse and Cap lead me into the barn, and I took in all the people. It wasn't that I didn't want to meet people, it was just that this was a bit overwhelming. I didn't want to make some awkward faux-pas, say something I shouldn't, or just make a outright foot of myself. Not to mention that I didn't know the music – which had been the reason that I thought I would enjoy myself.

I really missed my iPod.

Taking in my surroundings had distracted me just long enough for Johnse to disappear. Cap was still near me, but he was talking with another guy. I stood there, searching for Johnse over the heads of others. He was the easiest to talk to, but I didn't really want to burden him by being clingy.

"Looks like Johnse's found somethin' to keep him entertained," Cap said in my ear, pointing over to the far side of the barn near the punch bowl (yes, there was actually a punch bowl), where Johnse was standing over some red head, smiling charmingly down at her.

I looked at Cap. "He isn't going to…you know…"

The idea that Johnse might cheat on Roseanna infuriated me, and I didn't want my night to be ruined that easily.

"Naw, he won't do nothin'," Cap replied with an easy shrug. "Johnse only has one mode when talkin' to girls, and that's flirtin'."

That I could agree with. "So I don't need to smack him on Roseanna's behalf?"

Cap grinned and I found myself smiling because of it. "You could do that anyway, I wouldn't mind. Be mighty entertainin' if you ask me."

I smiled back at him, happy that we had a bit of break through. We stood there for a moment, watching the rest of the people.

"Aren't you going to go find Betty?" I asked, finding that I didn't really want him to.

"What? Oh, you mean Betsy. Yeah…" Cap trailed off a bit and ran a hand through his hair. "I might have made that up, ya see."

"Why?"

He gave a sardonic smile. "Not too many girls want to dance with Fog Eye."

I frowned. Cap was good-looking, hell, I'll say it: Cap was hot. Even with a white eye. It added to his mystery, his aura. But I guess I could understand how many girls might be put off by it. It seemed girls were the same across centuries, too.

"Well, I'd dance with you," I offered. "Only I don't know any of the songs."

"It's alright," he said. "You don't need to be nice about it, I'm not a big dancer anyways." I wanted to tell him that I wasn't just being nice, that I would truly dance with him, but we were distracted by a scuffle outside.

"Excuse me a minute," he said with a sigh, before disappearing from my side and out to the front of the barn. It seemed as if Tom had had a bit too much to drink and decided it would be the perfect time to confront another semi-intoxicated individual. I felt like I was at a UNC frat party. With a Confederacy theme.

I stood for a few minutes on my own, tapping my feet gently to the music. I liked it, it was folk and country, and that was always playing at my house, I just didn't know the tunes, and it seemed there was supposed to be a certain dance for each song. Sick of looking like an awkward loner, I wandered over to the refreshments table and got myself a drink.

"Hello, darlin'." I looked to my left to see a tall, burly guy looking down at me, a lopsided, somewhat predatory smile on his face. Frat parties had prepared me for this too. "I don't think I've seen you before." He looked like a typical farm boy – dusty hair, square jaw, dirty shirt.

"That would make sense," I replied, nodding. "Only got here a couple of weeks ago." _Not interested_, screamed every pore, but he didn't read body language very well.

"What's your name?"

"Emma," I replied shortly, deciding to go for the line all girls who just wanted to be left alone went to. "Waiting for my boyfriend to come back, so…yeah."

"How is it you got a boyfriend if you've only been here a few weeks?" He asked, giving me an annoyed look.

"It means she ain't interested, Tolbert," a dark haired guy said from my other side. He picked up a cup and took a sip. He was cute – brown hair swept across his forehead, wide brown eyes and a five o'clock shadow. He was also considerably more pleasant looking than the tall oaf.

"I think that's up for her to decide," the aforementioned Tolbert (_Tolbert?_ Really?) replied, taking a step closer to me. Instinctively, I stepped toward the smaller and less intimidating one.

"Nope, he's right," I said quickly. "Not interested. Thanks, though." Tolbert glared at me and the guy.

"Fine by me, don't need no Yankee anyway."

If I was supposed to feel insulted, I didn't, and gave Tolbert a little wave as he stalked away. Dad always told me not to settle on just any guy, in any situation. I wasn't shy when it came to men, though that didn't mean that I had had a huge number of boyfriends. I could just handle myself.

"Sorry about my brother," the other guy said, as I turned to look at him. "He's a bit thick at times."

"Your brother?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "Wow, I hope you home life isn't affected much by that encounter."

"Nah," he said with an easy smile. "My other brothers can hold him off if needs be."

"How many brothers do you have?"

"Three older, two younger. And three sisters." What was it with the backwoods families and their insane numbers of children? "I'm Calvin, by the way."

"Emma," I said, giving him a smile. "And yes, I am a Yankee. Apparently that's a big deal to everyone."

"Sure is," he said with a grin. "But don't worry, we ain't gonna hold it against you. More like you're a novelty 'round here, is all."

"I think I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should." I looked at him and smiled, realizing he was flirting with me. And it wasn't in a creepy way like Tolbert, or in an over-the-top-so-didn't-mean-anything way like Johnse. And I found that I didn't mind that much with Calvin. It was nice to think that I might be interesting enough for boys to take notice, but also that I was fitting enough not to scare them away.

"So, Miss Emma," he smiled, "do you dance?"

"Unfortunately not when I don't know the steps," I admitted.

"Well, lucky for you then," he said, putting his cup down, "I'm an excellent teacher." I had to laugh at his charm, and that smile was hard to resist.

"Alright," I gave in, gathering my courage. "But just one."

One turned to five as Calvin attempted to teach me the steps to fast paced fiddle songs that came so quickly I had trouble figuring out where one song ended and the next began. I was out of breath from laughing and spinning – Calvin was actually a horrible teacher, and it turned out he didn't actually know the steps to most of the songs either, so we just kept getting in other people's way. But I didn't care – for the first time since I'd been here, I was having a lot of fun, not worrying about what other people thought, and letting loose. I didn't need to think about going home at the moment, and I liked it that way.

The song ended and laughing, I leaned on Calvin, catching my breath. His arm found it's way around my waist. As the next song started, I recognized it immediately, which caught me completely off guard.

"Holy shit, I know this one!" I exclaimed. Calvin looked at me, surprised I had used such language, but quickly regained his composure.

"I was gonna say, if you didn't know it you best learn it quick. This here's the Confederate anthem."

I didn't care what it was, only that I knew the words. Grabbing Calvin's hands I pulled him deeper into the dance floor, as _I Wish I Was In Dixie_ played in full swing. We linked arms and spun, sung at the top of our lungs along with all the other good southern kids. I found myself linking arms with other people, laughing and singing, suddenly feeling like I could do this. I could be apart of this. And the idea didn't scare me as much anymore.

As the song ended, I clapped my hands above my head in appreciation, before wiping the sweat from my forehead. Cotton skirts and shirts did not breathe well, especially when surrounded by dozens of other people wearing the same things. At least the guys could unbutton their shirts a bit. I rolled my sleeves up past my elbows, catching my breath.

"You wanna get some air?" Calvin asked and I nodded eagerly. Anything to cool down.

We headed outside and Calvin led me over to a wagon that was parked near some hay bales. He reached in and grabbed a green glass bottle, pulling the cork out with his teeth.

"Want some 'shine?" he asked, taking a swig.

"Some _moonshine_?" I clarified. Of course, I knew what moonshine was, I was a college student after all, but I had never had it.

"Don't they have that up north?" he asked, teasing.

"Not really, no," I replied, knowing the truth was too complicated to get into. Part of me knew it probably wasn't the best idea to accept alcohol from a complete stranger, but I doubted that they had invented roofies at this point in history. Besides, when in Rome, right? The exhilaration of the night had really gotten to me, I was throwing caution to the wind.

Taking the bottle from him, I took a quick gulp. The liquid burned all the way down my throat and I nearly gagged – it was disgusting. Calvin laughed at my reaction.

"You'll get used to it, Emma Yankee," he said sitting down on the hay. I sat down beside him.

"Let me try again," I said, determined to get at least something right. It was still disgusting, but I was prepared for the burning sensation this time. Lord, it was strong. After just two gulps, I could already feel my cheeks tingle.

"So, tell me about yourself Miss Emma Anderson," Calvin said, taking a sip for himself and leaning back against the bales, giving me a smile. "What bring you down to Mate Creek, West Virginia?"

"My parents died. In a fire."

Calvin's smile faltered and he looked away, embarrassed. "I think you need this more than I do, then," he said, gently putting the moonshine back in my hand.

The conversation turned to lighter topics, and soon enough I was laughing again. Tonight was the first night since I arrived that I wasn't thinking about home, and whether it was the music, Calvin or the moonshine, I was finally starting to accept that this is my new life.

"Emma?" Laughing at some ridiculous story Calvin had told me about his brothers, I looked up to Cap, was standing over us, seeming utterly unimpressed.

Calvin jumped to his feet, his laughter dying off somewhat.

"Hiya, Cappy," I grinned up at him. He really was attractive, even with that scowl on his face.

"Hey, Cap," Calvin added, looking between the two of us and awkwardly shifting on his feet. "You alright?"

"Is she drunk?" Cap asked, still staring at me, his voice hard.

"I'm not!" I replied quickly, trying to stand. I honestly didn't think I was, but as soon as I wasn't sitting anymore the moonshine went straight to my head. Maybe I had had a bit more than I realized. With a sway and a "woo!" I stumbled into Calvin, laughing. "Okay, maybe a bit."

Anger flared in Cap's good eye. "You shittin' me, McCoy?" He growled, shoving Calvin back.

"Hey," I protested sadly. Then it clicked. "Wait…McCoy? Like, a _real_ McCoy?"

"Watch it Cap," Calvin warned, his smile disappearing. "We ain't done nothin' wrong. Just havin' a bit of fun is all. She never said she was with you."

"Hey, do you know Roseanna?" I asked him, suddenly seeing a bit of a resemblance. Calvin's faced darkened.

"She's my sister."

"Come on, Emma," Cap said, and I saw what looked like sympathy cross his face as looked at Calvin. "It's time for us to get goin'."

"Oh, is it over?" I asked, realizing that I couldn't hear the music anymore. But Cap already had his arm around my waist and was guiding me away from the McCoy. "Bye Calvin," I said over my shoulder, waving at him. "Thanks for the dances."

"See ya 'round, Emma." And then he was lost in the crowd.

Cap led me deftly through the people, ignoring the stares they gave us. Even in my tipsy state, I noticed, though, and was bothered by is.

"Why are they looking at us?" I asked, gripping his arm for stability.

"Cause we make quite a pair, you and I," he replied, looking down at me. "The drunk Yankee and the one eyed freak."

"I am _not_ drunk," I repeated, with a giggle. Cap, however, didn't seem wholly amused with the situation, even if he was being nice to me.

"You'll forgive me for not believin' you."

"And you," I said, looking up at him with my most serious expression. "Are not a one eyed freak. You're a one eyed _gentleman_."

A flash of a smile crossed his face and I considered it a victory. We reached the wagon were Johnse was waiting with Nancy.

"Where's Robert E?" Cap asked, helping me get into the back of the cart.

"Went to stay at the O'Connell's. Enjoy your night, Miss Yankee?"

"Sure did," I replied, standing up in the back and surveying the dispersing crowd. "Even had my first taste of real West Virginia moonshine." Cap shot Johnse a look.

"From who?" the older brother asked, looking confused.

"Calvin McCoy," I responded, noticing immediately the look that passed between the siblings. "Only I didn't know he was Calvin McCoy at the time. Just Calvin, brother of Humbert."

"You mean Tolbert?" Johnse asked, trying not to smile. "Why Miss Yankee, you are three sheets to the wind, I reckon."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," Cap said, stepping up into the wagon next to me. "That you best sit down and sober up before we get home, or Pa is gonna tan your hide."

Johnse suddenly looked a bit nervous. "Not to mention ours."


	4. Taming the Devil

I awoke with a groan…and a pounding headache. The sun was streaming through the window, and for a moment I forgot where I was. Then I saw the wooden walls and floor and sunk back to reality. I was disappointed though, just accepted it.

I was feeling rough, though, and it took me a moment to realize that I probably had not made the best decisions the night before…especially since I was having trouble remembering the end of it. Glancing over, I saw that none of the girls were in bed.

"Shit," I muttered, forcing myself to get up. I was in trouble.

By the time I got downstairs, most of the family was out, except to Cap, Johnse and Lavicy, who were in the main room. I stopped on the stairs to listen to them, suddenly anxious. Anse did not sound happy.

"It's disgraceful, that's what it is," he said, his voice sharp. "You know how that kind of behavior reflects on me? And I thought you two might have some brains between you."

"We're sorry, Pa," Cap muttered. "It's our fault and - "

"Your damn sure it's your fault," Anse grumbled.

"We lost her in the crowd," Johnse tried explaining. "She ain't never had 'shine before, didn't know what was goin' on." My stomach sank. As much as I didn't want to face Anse, I couldn't let Johnse and Cap take all the heat. I could imagine it wasn't a good thing for a young, single girl to get drunk with a random guy at a public dance.

Wincing slightly, I went down the last few steps.

The group turned to look at me. Anse had his pipe in his mouth, hands on his hips. Lavicy was leaning against the mantle, looking utterly disappointed me. Johnse and Cap gave me sympathetic looks.

"Good morning," I said awkwardly, knowing I was about to get an earful. But the look on Lavicy's face had me worried that Anse might just do more…that he might ask me to leave.

Anse looked at his sons. "I want you two to get your horses ready. You're going to your Uncle Ellison's to help out for the day. Don't leave until I tell you."

The brothers left sullenly, disappointed at the loss of their Saturday, but happy that they were no longer on the receiving end of Anse's anger. I stood before him, wringing my hands nervously.

"Vicey," Anse said, not taking his eyes off me. "I'd like a word alone with Miss Anderson."

I gulped and gave a pleading look to Lavicy, but she didn't meet my eye as she left the room. I suddenly felt a wave of guilt. She had done nothing but help me the past week, and I had just undone all of our hard work with one reckless night.

Soon it was jut Anse and I and I had trouble meeting his gaze. He stood there for a long moment, not saying anything, just puffing on his pipe. Finally, he sighed.

"We haven't really had a chance to talk." His voice wasn't as angry as I had expected, but I didn't allow myself to relax just yet. "I understand that your parents are no longer with us," he continued, not unkindly. "And that your time recently hasn't been the easiest. This must be…quite an adjustment." I looked up at him. It was obviously difficult for him to make such an admission, but I wasn't going to say anything, even to agree with him. It was be the world's biggest understatement. "But I need you to understand something, Miss Anderson. Life here ain't like the north, like the city. I ain't never been to New York but I'm damn sure your Poppy wouldn't like to see his daughter in the state you were in last night."

I looked away. He was right, most likely, and I flushed with embarrassment at the idea that I had run into Anse last night as drunk as I was.

"It ain't becomin' of a young lady," Anse added sternly.

"I'm sorry, sir," I finally said. "I promise you it won't happen again."

"Best not," he agreed. "I won't have that disrespect under my roof, ya hear? I don't know what it's like up there in New York but here in West Virginia, our girls act proper. Sooner you understand that the sooner you'll find to have an easier time 'round here."

"Yes, sir."

Anse sighed again. "How are you doin', Miss Anderson?"

"I'm…I'm sorry?" I looked at him, confused.

"I imagine you miss your family."

I was not expecting this. I was expecting to be yelled at and grounded or something. But Anse surprised me.

"I do," I admitted. "Very much."

"And did…did you have yourself…a…a suitor back in New York, Miss Anderson?" If I hadn't been in the conversation, I would have laughed. Here Anse was, looking like any dad about to have an uncomfortable talk with his daughter. I held my tongue, though.

"I…no. No, sir."

"I'm surprised by that, if I'm honest," he said, looking back at me. "That pretty girl like you don't have a whole hoard of men begging for her hand." I blushed and looked away, unsure of what to say. "I don't have a daughter your age," he continued. "But if I did, I'd tell her that she should watch herself out in public. The attention of young men can go to girl's head. Make her make some wrong decisions." I got the sense that he wasn't just speaking to my drinking problem, but also to the blonde McCoy living under his roof.

Devil Anse Hatfield cleared his throat and came to stand before me. I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I never knew your father," he said, "but if he were alive I'm sure he'd be saying the same thing. You keep your wits about you and you find a man who will respect you and treat you right."

Needless to say, I was surprised to hear this type of talk from him. He didn't seem like the type to dish out loving, fatherly advice. At least advice that didn't involve shooting and riding. But here he was, acting like I might mean something to him. Suddenly, the bold 21st century New Yorker burst out of me before I could stop her.

"As long as his name's not _McCoy_, right?"

I regretted it as soon as it was out of my mouth. Anse's look turned hard for a moment, but to my surprise he then let out an amused 'hmph'. My audacity seemed to impress him.

"To be completely honest, Miss Anderson, I ain't too worried 'bout you. Feel like you can hold your own. We haven't known each other long but the fact that you don't swoon every time my Johnse's bats his damn eyes at you is a sure sign that your head is screwed on tight and well." I fought back a smile as he made fun of his eldest. "You're also smart, smart enough to know that the McCoy's bring trouble. And I don't think you want anymore trouble in your life." He gave me a pointed look.

I let out a light scoff. "Ain't that the truth?"

"Pa?" Johnse poked his head into the room nervously, probably worried that I might be splattered across the wall in a million pieces. He seemed genuinely relieved that I was still standing there in one piece. "The horses are ready."

"Alright, best get goin'," he said, putting his pipe back in his mouth and looking back to me. "And take Miss Anderson with you."

"Woo-ee, Miss Yankee," Johnse clapped when we were without of earshot from the house, walking down to the barn where Cap was mounted on his horse, holding the other by the reigns. "I do believe you tamed Devil Anse Hatfield! I thought for sure he'd give you a good tongue lashin'."

"So did I," I admitted, still reeling from the conversation I had with his father.

Cap gave me a comforting smile as I approached him, petting his brown mare on the head. "How you feelin' this mornin', Emma?"

"A bit worse for wear, if I'm honest…though that conversation sobered me up quite a bit."

"Well, I won't ask what was said," Johnse said, mounting his horse. "But I sure am glad you didn't get yourself kicked out. You're mighty entertainin'. Hey, who you gonna ride with?"

"You comin'?" Cap asked. I told myself he looked pleased.

"Um, yeah, your Dad said I should." I looked at the two horses. I wanted to ride with Cap and considering I was already standing at his… "Do you mind if I ride with you?"

Cap gave me a smile and reached out his hand, pulling me up behind him. We set off down the hill, and I couldn't help but take advantage of my position, wrapping my arms around his waist, his toned muscles rippling beneath me. A bit of sweat rolled down the back of his neck from under his hat. He smelled like summer and the mountain and man.

"So are you two going to tell me what happened after we left the dance, or are you just going to let me imagine the worst?"

Cap and Johnse looked at each other as we descended down the hill. They were in no rush it seemed to get to their Uncle's. I doubted Ellison would mind, besides it was such a gorgeous days, riding leisurely along the trail was just so enjoyable.

"How much you 'member?"

"Just that I might have made a tiny bit of a mistake by agreeing to take moonshine from a McCoy."

Johnse chuckled. "Aw, Calvin ain't that bad. Better than Tolbert, that's for sure. And Pharmer. And Jefferson, come to mention it. But yeah, Emma, you ain't that good with your whiskey."

"You kept trying to stand up in the wagon on the way home," Cap continued, his voice laced with amusement. "Had to practically hold you down."

"And then you started singin' some song I ain't never heard of. But you could only remember the chorus, so you just sang it over and over and over again."

I buried my face into Cap's back, completely embarrassed, praying that it wasn't Black Eyed Peas or some other completely inappropriate artist for 19th century ears. Cap whistled a little bit to himself and my head shot up.

"You're kidding."

"Rock me mama like a wagon wheel," Johnse sang casually and I nearly lost it. "Rock me Mama any way ya feel. Hey, Mama, rock me."

I was smiling wildly, unable to believe I was hearing Johnse Hatfield singing Darius Rucker.

"Rock me Mama like the wind and the rain," Cap joined in, "rock me Mama like a south bound train." They weren't too bad.

"Oh my God," I laughed.

"Come on, Miss Yankee, let's hear ya!" Johnse hollered, laughing. I shook my head and obliged, the boys singing along with me.

_Rock me Mama, like a wagon wheel_

_Rock me Mama, any way you feel_

_Hey, Mama rock me_

_Rock me Mama, like the wind and the rain_

_Rock me Mama, like a southbound train_

_Hey, Mama, rock me!_

"Anyway," Johnse continued. "When we got back to the house, we had Nancy go in and try to distract Ma and Pa, while we snuck you in the back door. Didn't really work, though."

"You just kept singin'."

"I'm so embarrassed," I muttered, still smiling despite myself.

"It's alright. Pa told us all to go to bed and then just dealt with us this mornin'. No harm done though. You gotta mighty fine voice," Johnse complimented as I laughed again, thinking of the ridiculousness of the situation. But, it was a country song and these were country boys, it made sense they would like it, and that an intoxicated me would think it was appropriate. "You should sing for us all sometime."

"Yeah, I could do that," I replied. "I play guitar and piano too."

"Really?" Cap asked, sounding impressed.

"My Dad taught me. He played loads of instruments and my Mom was a singer. There was always music in our house." I paused, suddenly sad. This happened whenever I talked about them, when I was flooded with memories. Being here, in such a completely new and difference world, I had almost forgotten they were gone. Or hadn't even been born yet…it was hard to keep track.

The boys must have sensed my shift in mood, because they kicked the horses up a pace, hurrying our arrival to Ellison's farm.

It was nice to see a different part of Mate Creek, though Ellison's place wasn't all that dissimilar to Lavicy and Anse's place. It was smaller, for sure, as it was just him and Cotton Top, but it still had a barn and some farm animals, looking like something out of a picture book against the blue sky and green fields. Ellison, Cap told me, was a saddler, and sometimes he and Johnse came up to help do some other chores when their uncle was particularly busy with orders. There was a horse sale coming to Mate Creek in two months time, and Ellison wanted to get some new saddles finished to sell in town, meaning that the other chores were getting neglected.

"Hey there boys," Ellison greeted from the barn as we rode up. "And Miss Anderson, pleasure to see you, as always."

"I hope you don't mind that I tagged along," I said, sliding off the horse. Cap had reached up and caught me around the waist, helping me down.

"Not at all," Ellison smiled. "Cotton will be happy to see you. He's 'round back near the rabbit hutch if you want to see him."

Leaving the men to their manual labor, I headed up the hill, finding Cotton Top crouched next to a chicken-wire enclosure, a few brown rabbits hopping around inside.

"Hola, Senor Cotton," I greeted, pleased to see his wide smile. Cotton may have been special, but you knew his reactions were honest and true. If he was happy to see you, he meant it wholly.

"Hey there, Miss Emma," he grinned, standing up and dusting off his brown pants. "I didn't know you were comin' today. Is Cap and Johnse here?"

"They're down with your dad," I replied. "Are these your rabbits?"

Cotton immediately filled me on everything I needed to know about the little creatures – what they liked to eat, how best to catch one, and even how to make rabbit stew.

"But these aren't for eatin'," he said resolutely. "These are mine own."

"Have you named them?"

"That one there is Hoppy. The girl one is Sarah – that was my Mama's name – and the big one over there is Devil Anse."

"Why'd you name it Devil Anse?"

"Cause it's a mean old coot."

I snorted and Cotton smiled, unsure of why I thought it was funny, but proud of himself for getting me to laugh.

I spent the rest of the afternoon with Cotton, doing some laundry, getting some food from the garden. I followed him down to a creek in the late afternoon where he tried to catch some fish, but after an hour, when we were still empty handed, I convinced him to come back up to the house with promises of telling him a story.

We sat on the front porch as the sun started to set. I had made some sandwiches for Ellison, Cap and Johnse for when they finished, and was waiting patiently with Cotton for them to get back up to the house. Since Cotton so loved his rabbits, I told him the story of Peter Cottontail…making up a few bits I couldn't remember. He didn't mind so much, and I enjoyed reliving a story my mom told me when I was little.

Soon enough, the men came back up to the house, Johnse and Cap sweaty from their exertions. Ellison's hands were stained from working with the leather saddles all day.

"Food's in the kitchen, boys," I said, pouring them all some lemonade.

"Emma tells the best stories, Pa," Cotton announced, and I blushed slightly when Ellison turned to me.

"Does she now?"

"Sings pretty too," Johnse added, his mouth full of sandwich. Cotton looked like he had his the lottery with me.

"Sing us a song, Emma? Daddy's got a guitar in the back, though he don't play it much."

"It's cause it was a gift from your Uncle Lias, and I never learned play well. But you're more than welcome to use it Emma, if you'd like."

"Oh, well, it's really okay," I said, but Johnse had already disappeared, appearing quickly with the instrument. It was a bit smaller than I was used to, but looked about the same.

"Don't push her, Johns," Cap scolded, leaning against the porch railing.

"No, it's okay," I said. "I don't mind." I thought quickly…I needed a song that was both appropriate for the times and was one I could play from memory. I had memorized plenty of covers over the years, just needed to recall them. I cleared my throat, readjusting myself with the guitar on my lap. "Okay, let's see…"

I started into the first few chords of 'Landslide' by Fleetwood Mac. It was my mom's favorite song, and was her go to song to play whenever she was handed a guitar. The music and lyrics came back to me easily. As I sang, I realized how oddly appropriate the song was for my situation.

I didn't really make eye contact with people when I sang – it made me uncomfortable – but I couldn't help but look up to see their reactions. Ellison looked really impressed, Cotton was thrilled. Johnse smiled, chewing his food happily. My eyes landed on Cap and were instantly drawn to meet his gaze.

His face was emotionless, but he was watching me with such intensity I almost lost my place. It was as if I was the first and only person he had ever seen, and ever wanted to see again. Like he never wanted to look away. But I did. Breaking eye contact, I closed my eyes and finished the song a bit early; my heart feeling like it was about to beat out of my chest. His look had shocked my system. No one had ever looked at me like that, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

Cotton and Johnse clapped loudly as I finished, smiles wide. Ellison shook his head, clearly surprised. "I'll say, Miss Anderson you sure do have a talent with music."

I smiled modestly. I never got tired or used to hearing it. I loved music and I loved sharing my music with others.

"Can we have another, Emma?"

"I think one's good for tonight," Ellison replied before I could answer. I appreciated it, since I couldn't remember any songs off the top my head without some practice first. "Cotton, Johnse, will you help me with the dishes?"

I looked up from where I was sitting, a bit confused as to why he would as those two to help, but suddenly they were gone, leaving just Cap and I on the porch as the first stars made their appearance in the sky. I looked up at him cautiously, but he wasn't watching me anymore, instead looking out over the hills, arms across his chest. Swallowing and ignoring the butterflies in my stomach, I stood, leaning the guitar against the side of the house and moved next to him, resting my elbows on the railing and joining his gaze.

We stood there silently. The awkward, antsy part of my desperately wanting to say something. But I held my tongue. I realized as the crickets made their presence known that this was the first time that we had been alone together. I wasn't an idiot when it came to men, at least I didn't think I was. I thought I knew the signs…but Cap was different from anyone I had met. And this was a different time. I wasn't going to make a fool of myself if there wasn't anything there. He was going to make the first move.

The thought of that sent me reeling a bit…did I want him to make a move?

"You're quite good," he said, pulling me back to the present. His good eye flickered over to me briefly.

"Thanks," I replied, unsure of what else to say. "I really enjoy it."

"It shows."

More silence. I kicked my shoe awkwardly, wondering how to continue the conversation. In other situations, when the others were around, we didn't have a problem talking to each other, though it was usually about mundane, meaningless things. But now, I felt awkward and like I was struggling to think of what to say. "Hey," I finally said, thinking that this would be a safe topic. "How'd you get you nickname?"

He looked at me straight on now. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I heard your Mom call you William the other day," I replied. She had been cross with him for dragging his muddy boots into the house after we had just scrubbed the floor. Apparently his full name was only used when he was in trouble.

"William's my Christian name, sure," he shrugged. "But everyone calls me Cap. Ever since…"

He broke off, but looked me square in the face, his milky eye seeming like it was boring right through my soul.

"Since…" I offered, not breaking his gaze.

"Since I went from two eyes to one," he replied. I couldn't tell if he was offended, if I had brought up a touchy subject, or if he was challenging me. If it was a challenge, I decided to meet it head on.

"How'd it happen?"

"Accident," he replied easily. "Tree came down at the timber yard and shot a splinter right into it." I winced. "Hurt like nothin' else I ever experienced. But, it capped over within a few weeks and that's how I got the name. Cap."

"I'm really sorry," I offered, but he shrugged dismissively.

"Don't bother me much anymore. I can still do everythin', still shoot a squirrel at two hundred yards." He smiled sadly. "Just doesn't help when I'm first meetin' people, is all."

I knew he was referring to our first meeting when I had practically shrieked at the sight of him. I needed to clear the air. "Cap, that day that we met, I want you to know that…well, I wasn't afraid of you or disgusted or whatever else you might think. I was just surprised to see you."

"What do you mean?"

I took a breath, trying to be a truthful as I could. "Aunt Flo…Aunt Florence sent me a picture of your family once. And when I saw you on the road, I recognized you and it just caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting to meet you that way."

He nodded, seeming to accept this response, shifting ever so slightly, that our shoulders now touched as we stood there. The moon was full along the horizon.

"Aunt Florence," he said after a minute. "I think I met her once or twice. Not entirely sure how she is my aunt, to be honest. Everyone just calls her that."

I didn't hold back my laugh. "Same with me." He looked over and smiled. "My dad always said that she was my grandfather's uncle's cousin's niece or something crazy like that."

"Well, we're kin somehow," he said with an easy shrug. "Your name's Anderson, her name was Anderson. Pa and I are both William Anderson's."

I hadn't made the connection until now. Somehow, however distantly, Cap was related to my father. But not to me, I reminded myself. I had never been happier I was adopted - no weird abnormalities if we had kids.

_Woah, Emma. Pump the breaks._ I shook my head slightly. Definitely going crazy. _Remember where and _when_ you are._

"How'd your parents die?"

I looked over at him, surprised he would ask such a direct question. That wouldn't really happen back in my day, but they were much more used to death and dying at this time, I supposed.

"Um, it was a fire, I said." It was a car accident _and_ a fire, but he wouldn't understand the first bit. I blinked, that day replaying in my mind. Suddenly, it felt like a wave had crashed over me as I thought of my parents and my old life. It was all gone. All of it, not just my parents, but my friends and my school and everything I had. And I had no idea if I was getting it back. The uncertainty was terrifying.

It suddenly felt like I couldn't breath. I pushed away from the railing and started walking out into the yard, needing the space. My chest heaved as I tried to control myself. I didn't need Cap asking any other questions, I didn't need the attention. I didn't want to keep lying and making up my past.

"Emma?" he asked cautiously, following me as I rushed away from the house. I took a shaky breath and tried to look at him. But he was just a reminder of whatever the hell was going on. I hated the fact that I was falling for him, when this whole thing could be a dream. That I could wake up tomorrow and it…and he….would be gone.

"I'm fine," I replied, but my throat tightened.

Cap was at my side in and instant and pulled me into his chest. As soon as I felt his arms wrap around me, the floodgates opened and I sobbed uncontrollably into his shirt. He didn't say anything, just rubbed my back and I cried. I cried and cried, unable to stop myself and unable to do anything but wish that I had never taken that trip to see Flo, that I had ever told my parents I wanted to go to Charleston for Spring Break.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, when I finally began to calm down. "I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no," I said quickly, pulling back a bit and looking up at him. I was sure I looked like a disgusting mess, but he didn't seem to care. "It's fine. I'm fine. It's just…it's been a crazy couple of months."

"Can't be easy, being shoved into a family like this."

"Your family has been amazing, Cap…I just…"

"You miss your own."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

He looked down at me and I shivered as a cool breeze flew in.

"Emma," he started softly. "I know I can't ever bring you family back…but I hope…" He trailed off, for the first time looking unsure of himself. "I hope that…"

"Cap! Emma! You ready to go?"

Johnse, always a mood killer.

"Comin', Johns!" Cap yelled back over his shoulder, making his annoyance clear. He dropped his hands from where they had been resting on my waist and gave me a half smile.

"Best be goin'."

"Yeah," I repeated, looking away and trying not to show my disappointment. What had he wanted to say?

We headed back to the house in silence – the only sound I could hear was the beating of my own heard in my ears. We said goodbye to Cotton and Ellison – who told me to take the guitar with me and practice a bit more – and mounted the horses. I rode with Johnse this time, needed a bit of space between Cap and I. I didn't like how attached I felt to him, despite only knowing him for a week. It wasn't normal…it wasn't right.

When we got home, I was so tired I went straight up to bed, surprised when Cap grabbed my arm before I could ascend the stairs.

"Good night, Emma," he said, as I looked down at him. He gave me a small smile. "I hope you have sweet dreams."

I collapsed onto my pallets moments later, heaving a sigh, and wondering just what the hell I had gotten myself into. And if I even wanted to get out of it.


	5. For A Minute Or Two

Early the next morning, I loaded up the wagon with Roseanna, Nancy and Robert E with picnic foods, Ellison's guitar, and fishing poles, heading off the lake, as Cap and Johnse rode alongside us. Lavicy had suggested it would be more seemly if the two middle children joined us, and after my discussion with Cap the evening before I felt she might be right. Everyone already knew Roseanna and Johnse were together (though it was never explicitly acknowledged – Anse in particular seemed to think if he ignored her long enough she would just go away), but the last thing I wanted or needed was more gossip about me.

I was looking forward to a day away from chores, and Roseanna had said the lake was beautiful, but I wasn't really looking forward to getting riding lessons. The only time I had been on the back of a horse had been that ride to the house my very first day in 1882 – I was pretty sure my ass would never recover. I was walking funny for a week afterward. Not to mention, as I sat looking at the horses with renewed interest (or apprehension)...those things were massive. With my luck, I'd fall off and break my neck.

It was a good hour to the lake, though we were moving fairly slowly. By the time we got there, the sun was high in the sky and the air was warm, so warm that the blue lake looked dangerously inviting. I knew that by the end of the day, someone was going to be splashing around in there – most likely me.

We tied the horses up and set ourselves up on the wooden dock, unpacking our food and enjoying each others company. After lunch, Cap went off back to the wagons, while Robert E and Nancy headed off down the banks of the river to explore. Johnse leaned back on his hands, his long legs stretched out before him and a piece of straw held loosely between his teeth.

"You ready, Ems?" he asked with a million watt grin, nodding over my shoulder to where Cap was now untying the two horses.

"Um…yeah, about that…" I shot a pleading look at Roseanna, who just smiled and shook her head.

"You're in the country now, Miss Yankee. You gots to learn to ride like a real country girl. How else you and Cap gonna ride off into the sunset?"

"Oh, hush," Roseanna chided, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. He caught her hand and kissed it lightly. I blinked.

"I'm sorry…am I missing something?"

"Don't pretend like your heart don't go all a' flutter for my little brother. See, you're blushing now!"

"No I ain't! I'm _not_. No, I'm not blushing." Johnse let out a sharp, loud laugh. I could feel the heat rise in my face and looked away. "Shut up, Johnse."

"Don't tease her," Roseanna said, though she too was smiling. "It ain't kind."

No, it wasn't kind. It was insane – there was no reason for them to think that I was at all attracted to Cap…because I had done my utmost to keep that part hidden. Besides, there wasn't any reason for my to be attracted to him. He wasn't conventionally attractive like Johnse – he had a ghost eye, for God's sake! And he barely spoke to me! Or to anyone for that matter. No, Cap was a listener, while I was a talker. But that was me, I guess, always falling for the slightly mysterious types.

"Do I really need to learn? Now?" I asked, really wanting to get out of it.

"Well, don't sound too excited about it," Johnse replied with mock hurt. "It's all Cap's talked about since yesterday. Couldn't get him to shut up about you."

I looked over at Johnse, noting his wide grin. "What are you getting at, Johnse?" I asked with suspicion.

"My brother's got a thing for Yankee women, seems," he said nonchalantly. "Be mighty disappointed if he thought you didn't return the feeling."

My mouth opened a few times, but no coherent words came out. Really? Me and Cap? Could that be a thing? Did I want it to be a thing? I was planning on getting back to my own century anyway I could…so why did I suddenly feel like this was the greatest thing I'd ever heard?

"I think you've been drinking too much moonshine," I muttered, but stood anyway. I turned and forced my heavy legs to take me back to Cap. Behind me, Johnse let out a hoot.

"Have fun, Miss Yankee!"

When I got over to him, Cap was adjusting the saddle on one of the horses. If what Johnse was saying was true – and I found myself sincerely hoping it was – Cap had feelings for me. The idea that I had feelings back was possible…okay it was true…but we hadn't known each other long. It was only the end of June, I'd been here less than two months. I couldn't have feelings for someone in that short of time. It was crazy. But so was the fact that I two months ago I had been sitting by the pool in 2014. Nothing should seem crazy to me anymore.

"Hey Cap," I said, trying to keep my voice light and unwavering. "Johnse said you were going to teach me how to ride?"

"If you're up for it," he replied, not turning to look at me right away. He fixed the saddle and looked at the stirrups. "Should be good, I'd reckon."

"As long as you go easy on me," I said, gulping down my nerves and offering a smile as he finally fixed his gaze on me.

"Can't promise that."

I couldn't tell by his voice if he was teasing or not, so with a deep breath I stepped toward the horse.

"I really don't see why I need to learn this," I said, anxiously. "Can't I just ride in the wagon like the rest of the women-folk?" The feminist in me was kicking myself, but I seriously did not want to die falling off the back of a horse.

"You will," Cap replied. "Most times. But, it's always good to learn. You want to impress your city friends when you go back, don't you?"

"We don't know if I'm going back," I said, my stomach dropping. Cap turned to look at me and I felt my throat tighten as I fought back the tears. I was doing my best to live amongst them, but I couldn't help but wonder when this adventure was going to end. Or if it was going to end.

"Sure you will, Emma. I expect you to show me your city sometime." Cap looked at me with that deep gaze of his – it didn't matter that his one eye was milky white and sightless. He still seemed to pierce me with one look.

I swallowed hard and looked away. I was a terrible liar, so I cleared my throat and plucked up my courage. "So…what's its name?"

"Name?" Cap asked.

"Yeah," I replied, hesitantly reaching up to pet the horse. "It has to have a name."

A twinge of a smile played at Cap's lips and I felt myself relax a bit. "Pa calls her Red."

"Red?" I asked incredulously. "That's no fun. She needs a majestic name, like Misty or Pegasus or…Seabiscuit."

"When I was a boy, I used to call her Star," he said coming up beside me, putting his hand on the white patch on her forehead. "On account of this."

For a brief moment, he looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off of his shoulders. I knew enough of history to know that the Hatfields and the McCoys were infamous, that the members of those families had themselves tied up in a feud famous into my time. And I had seen enough in the past week to know that Cap was as caught up in it as any of them. It scared me to think that it might kill him and that despite my knowledge of so many things, I didn't know his fate. And it was clear it worried him as well.

Cap looked at me and I smiled at him. "Star's a good name." The horse whinnied and flicked her ears. "And it looks like she likes it, too."

"Looks like she's takin' a fancy to you, too, Miss Emma," he smiled genuinely, and without a word grabbed me around the waist hoisted me up onto the horse, as if I weighed less than bag of flour. "Not that I can blame her."

Another skipped heartbeat. Cap handed me the reigns and then mounted Johnse's horse, a lighter colored mare with black mane and tail.

"Alright, now give 'er a bit of kick with your heels, a little harder, there ya go. Hold the reigns tight in your grip now," he said as we walked along a wooded path away from the lake. "But keep'em loose on her neck, you don't wanna be pullin' her head back too much."

"Right. Tight, but loose," I repeated, trying to not look like an idiot. Luckily for me, it seemed Star was smarter than I was, and walked along on her own with Cap's horse.

"Once you get good, you can use your legs more to steer, ride with one hand on the reigns. Right now, you just use your heels to tell her how fast to go."

"Well, she doesn't need to go any faster," I replied, though I felt a bit like a child as he lead use through woods. I swayed back and forth uncomfortably, trying to find the correct rhythm. I tried to casually glance at Cap and mimic his motions, his posture. But he had been riding since he learned to walk, most comfortable in a saddle than anywhere else. I doubted I would ever get to the point, but I appreciated him trying to teach me.

We walked on for a while, Cap giving me some instructions, which I tried and usually failed to follow. Eventually we fell into an easy silence – one that I just had to break, never able to keep my mouth shut.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, Cap. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. You were just watching out for me and…I appreciate it." He didn't look at me right away. "And I'm sorry if what I did at the dance caused any problems." That caught his attention.

"You didn't cause no problems, Emma, that I promise you. This bad blood begun long before you arrived. Don't worry about it."

"What happened, exactly? If you don't mind telling me…"

"No, you should know. You're apart of the family now, it's only right you know why." We exited the woods where the trail ended, opening up onto a meadow that extended for hundreds of yards. Everywhere I looked I saw bright green grass and yellow flowers. It amazed me how untouched this nature was, how beautiful. Cap continued. "Pa and ol' Ran'll McCoy fought in the War together. Same regiment and such. Saved each other's lives a few times, so I hear tell. But somethin' happened between them – my Pa won't say what – ruined the friendship. When they came home, they didn't talk none. This was when I was just a baby."

"It's been going on that long?" I asked in disbelief. Cap had known nothing but family rivalry his whole life, and yet didn't ever know the whole truth. But, I wasn't going to tell him what I knew from Aunt Flo – it wasn't my place.

"Then there was this stupid thing with a pig. McCoy thought my Uncle Floyd stole one of his razorbacks, took him to court, but one of his own kin, Selkirk, went against him. McCoy thought that all the Hatfields were against him. Then there was the whole thing with Roseanna…"

"I heard about that. Roseanna told me." Cap finally looked back at me.

"Well, McCoy forbid their union, kicked the girl out. And Pa didn't want to defy McCoy, or any man over his daughter, you know? So he said them two couldn't be married, but McCoy don't care, still hates my Pa. And his crazy sons – you met some of them – shot Johnse over the whole thing. Not that I blame them entirely, Johnse can be a right fool sometimes."

It was the longest I had heard him speak, and despite the unfortunate subject, I didn't want him to stop. That southern drawl was just too adorable. But stop he did, as we came to the center of the meadow. The grass was so tall it tickled my ankles, and the breeze rustled my hair. It was like a scene out of a country song or Legends of the Fall. And my very own Brad Pitt was currently peering out from under his hat at the horizon.

I found myself staring at him – his strong jaw, his piercing blue eye, his blonde hair and facial hair that was a shade darker. I held back a giggle; I'd never been into mustaches and soul patches, which was really the only way I could describe what was growing on Cap's face…but somehow he pulled it off. Though I might encourage him just to grow out a healthy length of stubble to even things up a bit. Overall, though, he was devilishly handsome.

"Think you want to try trottin'?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"I don't know…I was just getting the hang of this standing around and walking slowly."

He smirked and I felt a weird sense of pride well up in me.

"You always talk like that?" he asked, not unkindly.

I shrugged. Sarcasm was usually my go-to tone. "Sorry, I…I forget I'm supposed to be meek and pliable like Roseanna. I know I can be a bit…"

"Loud?" he offered. "Talkative? Brash? _Northern_?" I would have been offended if he hadn't been smiling. God, I loved his smile.

"Well, don't hold back," I laughed, only slightly embarrassed.

"You know I'm only teasin'," he said, waiting for me to meet his gaze. "And I'm glad you ain't like Roseanna. I think you're pretty amazin' just how you are."

"You're sweet," I replied, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. I cleared my throat. "Maybe we should head back, make sure Johnse isn't giving your brother a mud bath."

We kicked off back to the trail, and I was fully aware of Cap glancing over at me – and it wasn't because he wanted to check on my form. We rode along for a bit in silence, and for once, I wasn't the one to break it.

"Tell me about your parents, Ems."

I looked at him, slightly surprised, but his smile gave off genuine interest. It was weird…I had never really had to describe my parents. Of course I had given a eulogy, but everyone there already met my parents. No one who didn't know them had ever asked what they were like, save a date or two. But even then, it wasn't like they couldn't experience Mom and Dad for themselves. For the first time, I had someone in my life who would never meet my parents…and I didn't want to sell them short.

"They were amazing," I gushed, an uncontrolled smile crossing my face. I had thought it would be hard, but once I started, all I could think about all the amazing things about them.

I told him all about them – what they looked like, what they liked and disliked, how my dad and I had a secret handshake and that my mom once brought home three stray kittens to live with us even though my dad was allergic, and how they both loved the sunset and would go up to the roof of our building every night with a glass of wine to watch it together.

When I finally stopped we were back at the lake, and Cap was looking at me with an amused smile.

"They sound real great, Ems," he said as he dismounted, coming over to me and raising his arms. I slid out of the saddle, letting myself fall into him. "I wish I could have met them."

"Me to," I replied, looking up at him, my hands lingering on his chest. Cap reached up and brushed some hair behind me ear.

"Hey Emma Yankee! Get your fanny over here and sing us a song!" Johnse yelled at us from the dock, and I rolled my eyes.

"We should probably get over there," I said, stepping away reluctantly. "Don't want them thinking we're spending too much time alone together, you know?"

"Might give'em the wrong impression," Cap agreed, still watching me closely. Biting my lip, I forced myself to walk away.

"How'd the ride go?" Roseanna asked as we got back to the group.

"She's a natural," Cap grinned, sitting down next to me. I noticed with pleasure that he sat close enough that when he crossed his legs, his knee rested against mine. "We'll have her ridin' like a country girl in no time."

"Watch out, Johns!" Robert E came running out of the woods, launching himself over his brother and into the water, splashing all of us.

"Why, you little…!" Johnse stripped his shirt off, kicked off his boots and dove in after Robert E.

For the next twenty minutes, Roseanna, Cap and I watched as Robert E, Johnse and eventually Nancy splashed around in the water, like children. It was refreshing. For a minute or two, I was able to forget that I was in the wrong century. For a minute or two, we were just a bunch of friends hanging out by the lake, and the boy I liked was sitting near me, hand brushing mine.

"I still want that song, Emma," Johnse demanded, once he had finally stopped acting like a ten year old. He was stretched out on the dock, head resting on Roseanna's lack, soaking in the late afternoon sun.

I rolled my eyes as Nancy handed me the guitar. "You're so demanding, Johnse. But, because I am a good friend and sucker for an attentive audience, I'll give you a few."

I had been planning in my head, and practicing for the little kids, ever since Ellison had given me the guitar. It took a bit to remember songs without helpful Youtube videos or even just the actual song on my iPod, but once I let myself get a bit creative (and reminded myself that they wouldn't know any of the songs anyway), I was able to find a few that were appropriate.

As in the entire Beatles catalogue.

I played 'I've Just Seen A Face', 'Here Comes The Sun' and 'Blackbird', happy that I could contribute in some way to this little group, despite being the outsider. Eventually, though, Nancy got bored and dragged Roseanna down to the beach to look for stones to skip, and Johnse and Robert E started a bit of fishing. I strummed a few random tunes, trying to ignore the fact that Cap and I were alone again. I wasn't nervous around guys…not usually…but I found myself trying to balance the 19th century expectations with my 21st century personality.

I stopped playing. Cap liked the fact that I wasn't the typical southern belle, that I wasn't a Roseanna. He like the fact that I did things my own way, that I didn't really care what other people thought.

"You alright, Ems?"

I looked over at him, feeling nervous but bold at the same time. "Yeah, I'm fine." I stood, setting the guitar down and talking back off the dock, in the opposite direction down the bank that the girls had gone.

"Where you goin'?" Cap asked, watching me from his seat.

"This Yankee girl needs a walk," I replied over my shoulder, giving him what I hoped was a flirtatious look. "You coming?"

For a moment, I thought maybe he was put off by it, that he wasn't completely cool or comfortable with a girl like me. But then he smiled and jumped to his feet, catching up to me quickly with his long strides.

We walked along quietly around the lake, always in sight of the others, though it was clear they were too busy to bother paying much attention to us. Cap's hands were in his pockets, eliminating my plan to casually take one in mine, so I had to rethink my approach. Gathering my courage for this had taken a bit, and I didn't want to blow it.

"So," I said after a long moment. "Nice lake."

_Smooth, Emma. So smooth._

"You ain't really interested in that Calvin McCoy, do you? I mean, like, romantically?"

I blinked. The Boy's direct.

"No, Cap. I'm not." We stopped walking, and Cap turned to face me straight on. I looked up at him, suddenly loving his discolored eyes that much more.

He looked relieved, causing me to smile. He didn't want me liking anyone, not just Calvin McCoy.

"Hey, Emma," he said, suddenly nervous, kicking the ground slightly. "I know I ain't…I know I ain't real fancy like them New York fellas and I know I ain't a real smooth talker like Johnse but- "

"That's okay," I blurted, blushing immediately. "I mean, Johnse's nice but…a bit goofy. I…I don't like guys like Johnse."

Cap smiled, relaxing slightly. "I guess…I guess I was just wonderin' if you…if you might let me…kiss you? And I understand completely if you don't - "

"Oh, just stop talking," I interrupted, standing up on my toes and pressing my lips to his. Cap froze momentarily, but soon let his hands come to my waist, kissing me back slowly, tenderly.

I wanted more, desperately. My dry spell was embarrassingly long and Cap was incredibly hot, but he pulled away after far too short a time. Damn him and his gentlemanly ways.

"Wow," he breathed, his mouth quirked into a half smile. "I knew I liked you, Yankee."

I let out a relieved breath, blushing. Cap reached up and brushed some hair out my face, his fingers lingering on my cheek. I suddenly realized why I found myself so attracted, so connected to him. He wasn't like the frat brothers or the varsity athletes I had dated in the past. He was old-school (literally), traditional (utterly), and completely sincere about everything. He wasn't like Johnse, who while I believed loved Roseanna, could see a pretty girl, form a crush and call it love. This wasn't a fling for Cap…this was _real_.

The thought that Cap might love me, or might be on his way to loving me, suddenly sent me crashing back to earth. I don't know what thought scared me more: that someone from the distant past that I had just met through some unbelievable time travel adventure might be in love with me…or the fact that that first fact didn't scare me all that much.

I was speechless – quite literally – for a moment, only brought of my reverie when Cap kissed me again. It was enough to make me promise myself to only worry about it when my hand was forced. His lips were too distracting to think any other way.

"Cap! Emma! We best get goin' home!"

Cap pulled away and looked over his shoulder across the lake, where Johnse was waving at us. The sun was starting to set, and we knew Lavicy would be worried if we got back too after dark.

I bit my lip and looked up at Cap. "So…what do we do now?"

"I think we head home."

"Right, but I mean…I mean about this," I motioned between us as we started walking back.

"To be honest, Ems, I think it might be best if we just keep this between us for the moment." I was surprised by this, but also surprised by how okay with it I was. It would give me some time to figure out just what the hell I was doing.

"I don't mean that I don't want people to know that we're…well, that I'm courtin' you it's just that with everything goin' on with Johnse and Roseanna, and the fact that Pa's having some trouble at the timber yard with some fella's who claim they own the land and - "

"No, Cap, that's fine," I said quickly and sincerely. "Really, I think it's better if we keep this quiet. Maybe until I've settled in a bit more and your dad doesn't look at me like some annoying Yankee squatter."

He smiled slightly, his hand finding mine and holding my fingers lightly as we walked back towards the dock. He pulled away once we got close, but not before looking down at my hand, thumb sliding lightly over my ring.

"What's this?" he asked with interest, peering at the silver band closely. It was the one thing from the future that I had managed to keep without anyone taking much notice.

"It's a Claddagh ring," I said, twisting it off of my finger and handing it to him. "It's Irish. My mom got it for me. When the heart is facing out it means that it is free, but when it's facing inward, it means that your heart is taken by someone."

Cap smiled and slid the ring back on my finger. "It's beautiful."

Back at the house, we ate dinner like nothing was different, and I started to read Moby Dick to the kids after everyone was done eating. By the time I ascended the stairs for bed, I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. But, a light touch on my hand in the dark of the corridor made me smile, and sent a jolt of adrenaline through me.

Cap stood at my back, so close I could feel his breath on my neck.

"Good night, Emma," he said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to my cheek.

As I laid down in bed, my face smiling so much that it hurt. I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I should be worried. I knew that this couldn't last, the most obvious reason being that I was determined that I would get back to my own life, sooner rather than later. But, I decided there was no reason that I couldn't enjoy myself.

I just couldn't let myself get too attached.


	6. Broken In

Cap and I went out riding every day.

Sometimes Johnse and Roseanna came with us, sometimes Robert E, or even some of the younger kids. A couple of times Tom Wallace or Alex Messer or French Ellis joined, meeting us along the road and deciding to tag along. Most of the time, though, it was just the two of us.

We always ended up at the meadow above the lake, riding through the tall grass, faster and faster each day I gained more experience. When we were alone, we would stop and lie in the grass and talk for what felt like hours. I was sure that Lavicy and Anse and Johnse (well, everyone to be honest) knew something was up – but no one said anything.

Well, maybe that was because there wasn't much going on. Cap and I sent each other glances, gentle touches here and there, and he found a way to kiss my cheek every night, but that was really it. Even when we were alone up in the meadow, Cap barely gave me more than a chaste kiss or a soft hold of my hand. It was infuriating…but at the same time, I didn't want to push it. We were becoming better friends…he was actually my best friend, when I thought about it…and I didn't want to ruin anything by being a 'loose woman' or whatever their Victorian minds might dislike. It also gave me more time try and figure my own situation out, though I wasn't making much progress.

That being said, the sexual tension was unbearable. I had no idea how Cap was handling it, but I could barely stand half of the time he left me at the top of the stairs having just kissed me, his breath lingering on my cheek. The jelly-like feeling in my legs and tightening of my lower abdomen had nothing to do with the amount of horse riding I was doing.

I had asked Roseanna what she and Johnse did – or at least I tried to ask.

We were laying in bed one night and the little girls had fallen asleep. Roseanna was asking me about New York and my family and friends, and I felt that we were at the stage in our friendship that gossip about boys would be appropriate. Especially since she straight up asked me if there was anything going on between Cap and I.

"We are taking it slow," I had responded carefully, but knowing that I could trust her. "But I…I really think I have strong feelings for him."

"That's for the best. Don't wanna rush nothin' and get yourself into trouble."

"I know that, but it's really hard," I admitted, blushing slightly. "I just…I want to be close to him…physically…and I know that it's important to everyone that there isn't any hanky panky or whatever but...how do you and Johnse handle it? Do you run off to his drip still?"

Roseanna's cheeks flushed and she looked away from me. I didn't think she would respond at first, that I had crossed a line. My friends back home always discussed these sort of things, usually in pretty crass terms with no embarrassment whatsoever, but Roseanna was not like that.

"We have…lain together as a man and a woman do," she replied quietly, though it sounded as if she had never regretted anything more. "I love him, Emma," she said, turning to me, her eyes glistening.

I felt awkward for causing her to feel that guilty. I really just need to shut my mouth. "I know, Roseanna."

I didn't bring it up again after that.

By the middle of July, I was a pretty good rider.

So good that I decided I wanted my own horse.

"You _what_?" Cap asked, as he hoisted a hay bale down from the loft in the barn. "You just started ridin'."

"But I'm always having to borrow one, either Star or Johnse's mare or I'm stuck riding one of the cart mules which is just embarrassing." I hung onto the ladder as he climbed down, giving him a pleading look. "I have money, I could buy one myself, no problem."

"It ain't just about buyin' it, Ems. You gotta house it, feed it, tack it. You gotta make sure it's broken in properly. You gotta ask Pa if he's willin' have another horse when the barn's full enough as it is."

I stepped up to him with a sweet smile. "And would you possibly help me persuade Anse to let that happen?"

"Ugh, I don't know, Ems." Cap moaned and stepped away from me.

"Please, Cap!" I begged, following him as he moved towards the door. "I don't have anything of my own here and I'm tired of having to depend on other people if I need to go somewhere. I need some freedom and I'm willing to do all I need to do to make this happen." He stopped and looked at me.

"Weren't you the girl who didn't even want to learn to ride not too long ago?"

"Chalk it up to what a wonderful teacher you are," I smiled, knowing I was about to get my way. "I'll even let you help me pick one out. I'll need your expertise."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep, because we all know what a fine judge of character you are." I stood on my tiptoes as if I were about to kiss him, but hovered just out of his reach. I was about to use the sexual tension in my favor.

He sighed, staring at my lips. "Fine, fine. I'll talk to Pa."

"You're the best," I replied, finally giving him a quick kiss.

The next week, we were on our way to Mate Creek to the horse sale with everyone. I hadn't expected it to be a family affair, but part of the reason we convinced Devil Anse was with the help of Lavicy, who wanted to go into town. It had taken some persuading (and my offer to not only buy the horse but also pay for its feed and board), but finally he had grudgingly agreed.

The horse sale was a big deal, so it seemed – I had never seen Mate Creek so busy – but I ignored the swarms of new faces, instead focusing on finding myself the very first thing I could call my own here, something that would give me an inkling of freedom.

"It's not just the horse, you know," Cap repeated his words from before, walking alongside me, his hand brushing mine every once in a while. "You're gonna need a saddle and bridle at the very least, not to mention taking him to a farrier. And then you're gonna - "

"Can we at least find the horse first and then worry about all this?" I asked impatiently, as we wound our way through the crowds toward the stalls. Cap shook his head good-naturedly at me.

"Sure thing, Ems. Sure thing."

We had broken away from the rest of the family, save Johnse and Roseanna, almost as soon as we arrived. The little children wanted to go see the trick-riders, while Anse headed off the tavern with his brother Elias and Uncle Jim. Johnse and Roseanna had wanted to go off their own ways, but I asked them to stick around, mostly because I still didn't think it was appropriate for Cap and I to be alone. If we were, I wasn't sure I could control myself around him. We walked along the rows and I eyed each horse. I knew nothing about horses, hence the reason Cap was there, but I was hoping that one would just sort of jump out at me.

Roseanna and Johnse had wandered ahead of us, just to have a bit of alone time.

"What about this one?" Johnse asked as we approached him. He was standing at a dapple gray horse, petting it on the head. "He's a mighty fine like, if you ask me."

"Mighty fine 'cept for the lame leg," Cap replied, kneeling down and peering around the animal.

"How'd ya know it's lame?" his brother challenged as I walked away, looking casually to my left and right, hoping that something would happen…and then it did.

"Ah! Cap…Cap…CAP!" I yelled at him, wincing in pain having been jerked backwards by the braid. "It's got my hair! _It's got my hair_!"

Johnse, Roseanna and Cap came rushing up to where I was standing next to the stall, a massive black horse casually holding my long braid in its mouth, bouncing its head up and down playfully. I would have found it endearing if I wasn't worried about my hair being torn from my scalp by the roots.

"Woah there," Cap said, reaching out to pet the animal. With a terrifying snort, the horse dropped my hair and reared violently, flaring its nostrils in Cap's direction. We both stumbled back away, shocked by the reaction.

"Well that one's just plum crazy," Johnse said, as Roseanna clung to his arm like a genuine damsel in distress. It would have annoyed me if it weren't her actual personality.

"What the hell's wrong with it?" Cap asked, looking curious. He stepped forward again, slowly, and the horse snorted angrily, kicking its front legs against the fence door.

"Somethin' clearly, it's not even half the price of the others."

I peered at the horse with interest. It was all black, darker than Anse's devilish stallion, save for the three white dots down its nose. Its eyes were fearful, not angry, as it started at Cap and Johnse, who were trying to read the sign.

"Says its was brought up by Carl Levanger. Makes sense it's got a mean streak; Carl's a harsh bastard. Beats his animals senseless." Cap shook his head sadly as he looked at the horse. "Shame. This here's a fine lookin' colt."

They started to move away, but I was intrigued. I approached the horse again, raising my hand cautiously to its head. The horse didn't react, at least not like it had to Cap and Johnse. Instead, he pushed his nose into my hand, sniffing me with interest. Gaining confidence, I stepped forward completely, running my hand along his sleek neck, as he ruffled my hair with his nose. I laughed; it was like he was hugging me in his own way.

"Wait," I called out to them. "I want this one."

Cap ran his hand through his hair, looking back at me in disbelief. Roseanna looked worried and Johnse just smiled in amusement. "You can't get him, he ain't been broken in right. Won't never be a good ride."

"But look," I pouted, hugging the horses neck. "He likes me."

"Listen, Emma," Cap started walking back over to me. As soon as he got within reach, however, the horse snapped him, completely ignoring the fact that I was still standing there. "Ya see? That there horse ain't no good."

"Roseanna, come here," I said quickly, getting an idea. "Come pet him."

She looked at Johnse quickly, but he just shrugged. Slowly she walked over to me, her eyes never leaving the horse. "I don't know, Emma…"

"Just come here," I said again, watching both of them closely. Roseanna inched closer, her hand shaking as he reached up to touch the animal. He stared at her calmly, sniffing her hand as she held it out to him. A moment passed.

"See," I grinned, hugging his neck again. "He's not damaged, he's just smart. Doesn't trust men." The Hatfield brothers looked at each other, while Roseanna and I cooed over the horse, which seemed to love the attention.

"He is mighty sweet," Roseanna gushed, as he nudged her playfully.

"You can't get a horse no one else can ride," Cap tried to reason, but my mind was made up.

"Roseanna and the girls can ride him. Besides, he's half price," I replied, pulling his tag off the post and looking for the stall manager. "Means I can get everything else I need and pay your dad in advance. And if I'm wrong about him, then you get to say 'I told you so'."

"You shittin' me right?" Carl Levanger asked, before spitting his tobacco chew at my feet. "You know pretty lady, this here horse is a defective. Ain't gonna be no good for ridin', best to stick a plow to it and work it till it's dead."

"I'll be the judge of that," I replied, with more confidence than I should have had, considering my lack of equestrian knowledge. Cap and Johnse stood behind me as my muscle, but I wanted to do this on my own. "Thirty dollars was the price, well, here's your money." I handed him the bills and he counted them.

"Alright," Carl replied, clearly thinking he was getting the better end of the deal. He walked to the gate and went to open it, but the horse reared again and let out a horrible roar, the presence of his former master too much for him to handle. As Carl reached for his lead, the horse lashed out, biting Carl square on the forearm.

"Why you son of a bitch," Carl growled, looking at his bleeding wound and grabbing a cow-tail whip off of its hook. He went to hit the horse, but I jumped in front of him before Cap could stop me, adrenaline pumping through me.

"Stop!" I yelled, as I placed myself between him and the animal.

"He needs a beatin'," Carl replied angrily, trying to get around me. I grabbed the horse's lead and he almost immediately calmed.

"Well he isn't _yours_ to beat, not anymore."

Cap stepped in at that point, shoving Carl back by the shoulder. "We appreciate your generosity in sellin' us this here horse, Cousin Carl. Mighty nice of you." His tone told Carl to move along.

The man snorted and spit again, dropping the whip to the ground and stomping off, thirty dollars richer.

"Don't touch that," I ordered Johnse, who had bent down to pick the whip up. "We won't be needing it anymore."

Johnse looked to his brother, but both he and Cap knew that I was not moving from my position. I turned and ran my hand down the horse's neck.

"No one is ever going to hit you again, I promise."

Minutes later, I was walking down the main row of the fair, my new purchase trailing obediently along behind me. Cap and Johnse kept their distance, and I watched in amusement as they looked at the horse with unmasked jealousy – both Roseanna and I pressed kisses to his neck and head.

"Well, look at you," Ellison greeted as we arrived at his stall, lined with bridles and saddles of different makes, showing off his work. "Miss Emma Anderson, I do say you've got yourself a mighty fine animal there."

"Thank you, Ellison," I replied with a smile and a pointed look at the boys. "This here is Orion and he needs some tack."

"Orion?" Johnse asked.

I didn't quite know when the constellation had been named, or if it was even something I could explain to them. The three white dots in a line had given me the idea, so I just went with the myth. "It's Greek mythology," I replied. "Orion was a great hunter, incredibly strong. The son of a god."

"Was he ornery, too?"

I shot Johnse a look to shut his mouth, and then turned to Ellison. "He's doesn't really seem to get along with men, only Roseanna and I have had any sort luck with coming near him."

As if on cure, Cotton ran around from behind the stall, straight up to Orion.

"Cotton – no!"

"Is this your new horse, Emma?" He asked, as he stroked Orion's neck. The horse looked at him calmly. I blinked and looked at Johnse and Cap, who both looked a little insulted. Ellison chuckled.

"I've seen that happen before. Some horses who ain't broken in right have a grudge against those they associate with their beaters. Usually women and children ain't seen as threats. I think I've got some things here, won't need to take his measurements if you don't mind not havin' something custom."

"Not at all," I grinned, happier than ever with my selection. Orion was perfect.

Only, not every one seemed to think so.

Outside the tavern an hour later, I was struggling to lift the saddle onto Orion's back. He was massive and I couldn't reach over him or lift the heavy thing on my own. Every time Cap tried to help, Orion bucked his head and snorted in upset. Lark and French laughed at me as I struggled, only stopping when Cap punched Lark on the shoulder.

"We'll figure this out, 'Rion," I said in determination, grabbing a stool from the front porch of the tavern. Using it to give me height and leverage, I finally managed to get his saddle on, tightening it like Cap had taught me on Star and the other Hatfield family horses. Stepping back, I looked at him with pride. "See?" I asked the boys, who merely sipped their whiskey and shook their heads in amusement.

"Miss Anderson!"

I looked across the street to Walt, the owner of the general store waving at me.

"Miss Anderson, your orders have arrived."

"Oh, awesome. Cap, watch my horse, will you?" I took off across the street, leaving my Cap standing there, holding Orion's lead and looking nervous.

I entered the store, the bell ringing as the door pushed open – and slammed into a dark haired girl standing near the entrance.

"Oh!" she said in alarm, glaring at me as I stumbled in, all excited because of my earlier purchase.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I apologized quickly with a smile. "I didn't see you there."

"Clearly," she replied snidely.

"Okay then," I said slowly, deciding just to walk away before my mouth got me in trouble, but she looked me up and down then with interest.

"You ain't that Yankee girl that moved in with the Hatfield's not too long ago, are you?" She asked and judging by the look on her face, I wasn't quite sure what to answer. The truth seemed like the best and only option.

"That would be me," I replied, moving to the counter, hoping to end the conversation. She didn't get the hint.

"Well ain't that something. I'm Nancy McCoy, my cousin Roseanna's been stayin' with Johnse for some time now."

"Openin' her legs, I bet my life," a swaying, bearded man added, stumbling over. His breath reeked of whiskey.

"And this here's my brother Jefferson," Nancy introduced, looking at the man affectionately. I did my best not to look disgusted, both at his smell and at their behavior.

"Nice to meet you both." It wasn't, really. I paid for the books, not missing the fact that Nancy was standing there, eyeing me as if she had some secret plan that I didn't know I was apart of. I glanced up at her.

"Can I help you?"

"Don't know, can you bring my pappy back?"

"Uh…what?"

"Hey, Emma?" Johnse Hatfield burst into the store. "Oh, hey Nancy."

"Hey Johnse."

"Um, Emma, your horse just took a nasty bite out of Uncle Jim's shoulder…you might want to get out there 'fore he does somethin' you don't like."

"Say no more," I replied, grabbing my books and running out the door, partly to get away from that awkward Nancy McCoy and partly to make sure Jim Vance didn't put a bullet through my horse's brain.

He was shouting and kicking up a storm as Cap and Elias held him back, trying to get at Orion with the butt of his pistol. As I ran up, I shouted for them to knock it off.

"Leave him alone," I said, grabbing Orion's lead and settling myself between the agitated horse and irate Jim Vance. I was scared of him, sure, but I wasn't about to back down here.

"That there is a son of a devil horse," Jim bit out, spittle flying towards me. I stood my ground. "'Bout near took my ear off."

"You aren't even bleeding," I replied in annoyance, feeling a bit better when Jim's face turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Let it go, Jim," Cap ordered, shoving his uncle one more time and readjusting his shirt.

"What's goin' on?" Anse asked, walking up with Lavicy and their younger children. "Ya'll keep embarassin' me in public like this I might just take to whippin' some of ya."

"Your ward," Jim said, the second word sounding like dirtiest thing he could think of, "done gone and spent your hard earned money on a damn crazy colt."

Anse smoked a puff of his pipe and looked at me. Orion was nudging at my hands, wanting me to pet him. He then looked at Jim, who was disheveled and with a very visible bruise forming on his shoulder, where he was holding his shirt down to show the evidence.

"Weren't my money she spent," he finally said to Jim. "And if it's crazy, well, she's the only one who's gonna deal with it." If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn I saw a hint of a smile as he looked at the fury on Jim's face.

"I'm king of the world!" I yelled as Orion galloped through the meadow, faster than I had every gone before.

I hadn't taken long for me and my new horse to find a rhythm – riding every day will do that. I didn't care if I had to wake up before dawn, I was riding him. Cap had told me that eventually the horse would become an extension of myself, that the slightest touch could command and communicate – he was right. Orion and I…we clicked. It was weird and cheesy and something best kept to a Disney movie, but I felt it. We both loved the feeling of the wind in our hair, the rumbled of the ground beneath us, the sun in our eyes. If I didn't at least see him by noon, Orion made his displeasure known, disrupting all the other horses. Anse was fed up after a week and warned me that if I didn't keep him under control, he'd be selling him the next chance he got. So, of course, I used it a more of an excuse to go out riding longer.

And Cap was right there with me every single day.

Through our rides and lazy lounging in the meadow, I learned so much more about Cap. Every little detail about him endeared him to me more and more…the attachment was growing and I found myself reveling in the feeling of becoming so close to someone.

He was the most well-read in his family, always with a book on his person, some paper and a pencil as well. He would write down words he didn't know to ask his Uncle Wall about later on.

Cap ran his hand through his hair whenever he was embarrassed or anxious.

Uncle Jim had bought him his first pistol. Johnse had only just gotten his, and Anse didn't think Cap was old enough.

He hated corn, though it was one of his family's main crops. It got stuck in his teeth.

And he absolutely loved West Virginia. He loved the rivers and the hills and the fields and the trees and the sky. And his love for his home was rubbing off on me.

"You're gonna break your neck, girl," He laughed as he raced along side me. "Got a bit of a daredevil on my hands!"

I pulled back on the reins, bringing Orion to a stop as we reached the middle of the meadow. It was hot, really hot, and the sweat trickled off down my neck. I dismounted, letting Orion wander off on his own with Star to graze in the shade. Those two horses got on like peas and carrots, much like their owners.

With a dramatic sigh about the heat, I flopped down in the cool grass, spreading my skirts around me hoping to let some breeze blow up and cool me further. Cap lay down beside me, his shirt halfway unbuttoned. The glimpse of his chest hair and the tiny beads of sweat glistening on his tone torso…umf.

I forced myself to look away. "Hey, do you think we can visit Johnse's drip still tomorrow?" I asked. "I still haven't been to see it."

Johnse had been out of the house the past few days, working at his still and making deliveries to different parts of Logan and Mingo counties. Apparently his moonshine was some of the best around, and he was definitely proud of the high demand it was in. Roseanna was acting strange, but chalked it up to not feeling well. I just assumed she missed Johnse.

"He's comin' over for supper tonight and I gotta work tomorrow, but how about later in the week?"

"I guess that works," I replied, slightly disappointed. I only needed Cap to show me where it was once, and my impeccable sense of direction could handle the rest. Visiting Johnse would give me an excuse to get out of the house – I wasn't quite sure how much longer riding lessons were going to help me get out of house and garden work.

"What do you want to do, Cap?" I asked, thinking more about Johnse and his dream of opening his own distillery.

"What d'ya mean?"

"Like, with your life? Johnse has his still. Do you plan on taking over the timber business after your dad?"

He sat there silent for the moment, staring up at the clouds. Sitting up, he folded a piece of grass and stuck it between his lips, letting out a high-pitched whistle. I waited for him to respond.

"Ideally, no," he finally replied, resting his arm on his knees which were pulled up to his chest. "But I ain't got much of a choice, I reckon."

I stayed in my position, but turned my head to look at him. "You always have a choice, Cap. If you could be anything, what would you want to be?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. I mean, I've always liked what Uncle Wall does. Bein' a lawyer and such, keepin' the peace. But I don't got enough schoolin' for that."

"It isn't too late. You could always go to college and study to be a lawyer if you wanted to."

Cap sighed and looked at me. The smile he gave me told me the conversation was over, that he had resigned himself to the life his father was planning for him. He laid back down, somewhat deflated, and my guilty conscience kicked in again.

"Christ, it's hot," I commented, standing up and unbuttoning my blouse. I could feel Cap's eyes on my as I stripped it off, and started on the buttons of my skirt.

"Ems, what are you doin'?"

"Cooling off," I replied casually, wiggling the skirt down my legs, until I was just standing in my light, white chemise. It was a relief to be out of the heavy cotton, and I looked over my shoulder at Cap, who was staring unsubtly at the silhouettes of my legs through the thin fabric. "Like what you see, Hatfield?"

He didn't respond, only dragged his eyes up to meet mine. Looking at him, lounging on the grass, his chest and collarbones exposed, that quirked smile on his lips…it was too much to for one girl to handle. I wasn't planning on going all the way, just to show him that I wasn't the delicate flower Roseanna was.

I walked over to him, kneeling down and straddling his waist.

"Ems…" He started, but was silenced as I pressed my lips against his. He tasted amazing – like whiskey and good tobacco and pure, country man. I kissed him harder, biting his lip until he gave me access to his tongue. As soon that happened, something switched inside his brain.

Cap's hands suddenly found themselves wandering my body with a firm, determined focus. They were on my thighs, then my waist, making their way up to my breasts as though he could read my every thought and desire. He flipped me over onto the grass, kissing me deeply and pressing his body into mine. His desire was fairly obvious as well, pressing itself against my thigh.

I got a rush thinking about what I did to him, knowing that he found me so attractive, so appealing, and not just in a physical way. How he'd restrained himself so far had proven that to me.

I pushed my pelvis upward, trying to convey how much I wanted him too, boldly sliding my hand down his body to the front of his trousers.

Cap pulled away suddenly, sitting up and leaving me alone in the grass, confused and embarrassed.

"We shouldn't, Ems," he said, breathing heavily. I blushed furiously, unable to believe how dumb I was. Of course, we shouldn't.

I apologized, sitting up and scooting away from him, grabbing my shirt and pulling it back on with shaky hands. It felt like I had been doused with cold water.

"Don't be sorry," he said quickly, adjusting himself. "It's my fault too and it ain't…it ain't like I don't want to. I just don't wanna screw things up with you like Johnse did with his girl."

"I got it, Cap," I replied, sharper than I meant to. "It's fine."

The ride home was awkward, to say the least. Awkward and quiet. I shouldn't have been so weird about it, I know. A girl should appreciate a man being a gentleman, right? But I was so sexually frustrated at this point, I just wanted to smack him and tell him to screw me senseless, fuck what anyone else thought. That wouldn't go over well, though, so rather than risk it I just kept my mouth shut completely.

I left him in the barn to handle the horses, wanting nothing more than a glass of whiskey for myself. But when I entered the kitchen, I stopped short, seeing a forlorn Johnse sitting at the table. He looked as if he'd been crying.

"Johnse?" I asked, my disappointing afternoon with Cap vanishing instantly from my mind. "What's wrong?"

He looked up at me, eyes bloodshot. "It's…it's Roseanna, Ems. She's gone."


	7. Whiskey Sour

No one could tell me why Roseanna had left us. Johnse had no clue, no note, no indication if she was coming back and it was tearing him apart. Nancy said that she had just packed her things and left, not saying a word. Lavicy merely said that Roseanna had decided to go back to her family, but I didn't completely believe that. Roseanna would have said something…wouldn't she have? We slept in the same room every night, and never once had she said she was thinking of going back to her family. I knew that she would have, if they would have allowed her, but not at the expense of Johnse.

As long as he wanted her, she wouldn't have left his side.

It was strange and unnerving, not having Roseanna in the house anymore, but seeing as I couldn't just ride over to the McCoy's to visit, there wasn't much I could do. I considered writing her, but I doubted that would go over well.

Johnse didn't stick around after she had gone. He went to stay his own cabin in the woods near his drip still, about two-hour ride away from the Hatfield homestead. The only reason he was around as much as he had been was due to Roseanna, and while it hurt slightly that he didn't want to see me as much, I knew it was because he was nursing a broken heart.

I had planned to go out to see him, and Cap had promised he would take me to visit, but after our afternoon in the meadow there was an odd tension between us: unspoken desires and feelings that were bound to explode at some point. But with the Roseanna events, we had to push them aside. Beyond that, heavy storms rolled through the countryside, meaning that I was housebound for almost a week, unable to even ride Orion for an hour in between the storms.

It was the longest week of my life.

One Tuesday, the storms finally cleared up a bit, the break in the clouds bringing much cooler weather and an indication that summer was coming to an end.

"Lavicy," I said, coming into the kitchen. "Do you mind if I go visit Johnse this afternoon? I promise I'll be back before it gets dark."

"How'll you get there?" she asked, kneading some dough in her hands. "You got that horse now but you ain't got an idea how to get across Mingo County." Lavicy always liked to ask rhetorical questions; at least she did when she though she knew the answers to them already. But I had taken the proverbial bull by the horns and gotten myself my own personal guide.

"Cap will show me the way," I said, as the man of the hour walked into the room, light blond hair swept down over his eyes. "I thought I'd go with him to the timber yard and then go on to see Johnse after lunch."

"What are you gonna do all mornin' at the yard?" He asked, grabbing a roll from the table and smothering it was jam. I shot him a glare – he was supposed to be on my side. Cap withered under my look. "Oh, uh, sure, Emma. Ma, I don't mind. I'm sure there's some housekeepin' and books to be looked after."

Lavicy looked between us. "What's your father say?"

"He don't mind," Cap shrugged easily, and I gave Lavicy a pleading look. I needed to get out of the house.

"I'll get more money to pay for Orion," I offered, knowing that my trips to be bank would become few and far between once the fall harvest kicked up. From what Nancy told me, the end of summer also brought an end to free time.

She sighed. "I suppose it will give Johnse a reason to show his face 'round here," Lavicy replied, though I think she meant it more affectionately than it came out. She missed her son. "Tell 'im I wanna see him for breakfast t'morrow and make sure he knows to get you back by nightfall."

I grinned and bounced on my toes, tempted to hug her but knowing that Lavicy, like her husband and second son, was not the most touchy-feely person. Cap gave me a smile, mouth full of bread and jam.

We set off shortly after that, taking the 45 minute ride to the Hatfield timber yard. Anse had stayed overnight to get an early jump on things, and Lias, Jim, Ellison, Tom, French, Lark, Alex and all the rest were already there when we arrived. Cap might have gotten an earful from his dad had Selkirk McCoy not stumbled in twenty minutes later, reeking of alcohol. Selkirk, despite being a McCoy, seemed accepted by the Hatfields; I had a feeling, though, that he didn't see his relations that often. Being Anse's employee seemed to mean his alliance had changed. Money was more important than blood to Selkirk.

I helped around the small office, organizing papers, cleaning up after the men and making sandwiches for their lunches. I often found myself staring out the window at Cap, who was working with his Uncle Ellison sawing some logs down into board. He had taken his shirt off, so my staring really couldn't be helped. God, I wanted him.

I nearly dropped my pitcher of lemonade when Jim walked in and barked at me to get the food ready.

After lunch, I took off down the road. Johnse's place was up in the mountains, but was easy enough to find on my own. About an hour after setting off, I came upon a small lean-to just off the side of the road, some steam coming up from the stills in the ground. The dirt was littered with half empty whiskey bottles. I tied Orion to a tree and approached, about ready to call out for Johnse when I saw him passed out on a bench toward the back of the hut, his hat covering his face.

"Johnse?" I asked, coming up cautiously and not wanting to disturb him. "Johnse, are you awake?" There was no response, so I prodded his shoulder. Still nothing. I sighed and looked around, spying a bucket of water. Bingo.

"Jesus Christ!" Johnse jumped up, arms flailing as the wave of tepid water doused him, blonde hair sticking to his face and white shirt soaked through. "What the hell, Emma?"

"I missed you too, Johnse," I replied with a cheeky smile. He groaned and ran his hands down his face, looking incredibly worse for wear. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah…I'm – I'm sorry 'bout that," he said, though he didn't sound sorry. "I've been busy."

"Clearly." I eyed the empty bottles around him. "Drinking yourself into oblivion, it looks like."

"You know, I don't need that from you, Ems," he replied sharply, but he shook his apologetically almost immediately. "I'm…I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just tired, I guess, tired tryin' to convince myself that I ain't the fool everyone says I am."

"You're not a fool, Johnse. You're just broken hearted."

"I'm a fool for thinkin' Roseanna loved me like I love her!"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Boys could be so dramatic at times. "She does love you!"

"Then why'd she leave?" he asked, standing up and swaying, looking for another bottle to kill. "Why'd she just up and go without tellin' me?"

"There's got to be an explanation, Johnse. And she didn't just leave _you_, she left all of us."

"Maybe her Pa found her some new man," he sniffed, finally finding what he was searching for. Pulling the cork off the whiskey with his teeth, he took a long gulp. Considering how his blood was mostly alcohol already, the first bit of new drink had him already swaying on his feet. "Maybe she found some McCoy that can marry her and provide for her like I can't."

"Don't say that, Johnse. She loves you. Something must have happened…" I trailed off, unsure of what that something could have been. "She didn't find someone else."

"I bet anythin' she did. Her Pa hates me, bet he done find some fella for her to marry, promised to welcome her back with open arms." He kicked the ground, depressed. "Probably wouldn't blame her, though. Can't be easy for her, livin' with us, all the talk behind her back."

"We'll figure it out, Johnse. Do you want me to go over to the McCoy's and see her? You could maybe ask Selkirk if he's heard anything?"

I knew it was a pipe dream – I'd never be allowed across the river by myself, not to mention I didn't know where to go. I doubted rolling up to the McCoys with Johnse or Cap in tow would solve anything.

"That's mighty sweet of you, Ems," Johnse said, giving me a smile for the first time. "Don't think it would do much good though."

I sat with Johnse for another hour or so, and the topic of conversation thankfully moved away from Roseanna. He explained how his drip still worked, the places he delivered to, his expansion plans once he saved up some money…all the while drinking more and more of the whiskey he was supposed to be selling.

"Okay, Cowboy," I said, taking a bottle from him. "Keep drinking it and you'll never make up the profits."

"You're real smart, Emma Yankee," he slurred, pulling me into a bear hug and planting a slobbery kiss on my forehead. "Real smart, always lookin' out for me. I might just love you."

"I love you too, Johnse," I patronized, patting his side and trying to casually pull away fro him.

"No, you love Cap," he grinned, popping the 'p' between his lips. He made a kissy face at me and I swatted him away. Laughing, Johnse stumbled back onto a stack of logs, giggling harder as he landed with a thud.

"Well, as fun and enlightening as this has been," I said, standing, "I have to get going back. Looks like it's going to rain again and your mom wanted me back before dark." I didn't think he was in any condition to show up at the Hatfield house, no matter how much his Mama wanted him there for breakfast the next morning.

Johnse took a deep breath, his mood sour again. "You know what I'm gonna do," he said, pointing emphatically at me. "I'm gonna go to town and I'm gonna forget Roseanna, just like she forgot me."

He made to move for his horse, Bear, which was tied to a tree near Orion, tripping over nothing as made the attempt.

"You know, I don't think that's such a good idea, Johns," I said, catching his arm and helping him stand. "You're a bit wasted as it is and - "

"I'm goin', Emma," he said sternly. "Either that or I stay here and just die of heartbreak and loneliness."

"God, you're dramatic."

He shook me off and tried to get on his horse, resulting in poor Bear getting kicked in the stomach and Johnse flat on his ass, looking perplexed and forlorn. He looked up at me with his sad, puppy dog eyes.

"You gonna help me, Emma? Or you just gonna leave me too?"

I rolled my eyes. "Jesus. Okay, fine, I'll help you. But you're not riding on your own. Last thing we need is for you to fall off and break your scrawny neck."

"My nightly armoir. Nightingale armor. My shiny armchair."

"Your knight in shining armor, I got it, Johnse," I grumbled, helping him onto Orion's back. Apparently my horse was tolerant of men who were too intoxicated to stand up straight. "Just don't vomit on me and we'll be good."

The entire ride down to Mate Creek, Johnse sung some forlorn song about a man who lost his girl, no doubt making up the lyrics as he went. He arms were drooped loosely around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder, his breath reeking of whiskey and a sour stench coming off his unwashed body. I debated how reasonable it was to take him to the tavern and I certainly didn't expect him to get home, but I didn't doubt that once he was there I could make Johnse someone else's problem. That's just the kind of good friend I am.

I couldn't take him back to the house in the state he was in and Lavicy was already going to be annoyed at me for being late. By the time we got to Mate Creek, the sun was starting to set. I pulled to a stop in front of the tavern and dismounted, my feet sinking deep into the mud. I grimaced – that was going to be a bitch to clean.

"Come on, Johnse, you big oaf." I tried to hold onto his hands, helping him off Orion, but his foot got stuck on the stirrup and he fell forward into me. I slammed backward into the ground, squishing down into the muck. Johnse giggled.

"Hey, little piggy."

I restrained myself from slapping a mud pie into his pretty little face. Struggling, I stood up, wiping my hands on the front of my skirts, the only part that wasn't mud-caked. "Hey, Alex!" I called out to the boy approaching, his dark hair hanging in his eyes. Alex Messer smiled at the sight of the two of us. "Can you help me with him?"

"Lookin' mighty nice, Miss Emma," Alex teased, before helping Johnse disentangle his foot. "Got our Johnse drunk now?"

"I had nothing to do with that, he did that all on his own." I helped him get Johnse up the stairs of the saloon and inside, setting the drunken blonde down at the first open table we saw. I had never been inside the Mate Creek Tavern, and looking around at that moment, I could sort of see why.

It wasn't exactly the type of place Devil Anse would have wanted me to be seen. There were no women in there, save the four or five that were unquestionably prostitutes, and all of the men looked worse for wear and had a beer or three in front of them. Guns laid threateningly on the tables, warnings to those who wanted to cheat at their card game or skip out on a tab. The friendliest looking patron, aside of Johnse and Alex, was Uncle Jim Vance, which was saying a lot. He glared at me from the corner and I knew it was probably a good idea if I left – the last thing I wanted was him tell Anse that I was there for longer than absolutely necessary.

"Can you make sure he gets home okay?" I asked Alex. "Or at least that he doesn't drink himself to death?"

"I can help him, sugar," a prostitute said, coming up to the table and letting her practically exposed breasts introduce themselves to Johnse. I raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry, you're leavin' him in real good hands."

"Right…okay, on that note, I'm going. Good to see you Alex. Johnse…don't do anything too stupid, okay?" But he was already zoned out, looking for his next drink. Shivering off the STDs I undoubtedly caught while standing in there, I hurried back outside. I hurried so much that I slammed right into a woman on the stairs and fell down the remaining to steps, landing face first into the mud puddle I had fallen in not five minutes earlier.

"You've got to be shitting me." I pushed myself off the ground, the mud squishing beneath my fingers. I looked up at Orion, who seemed amused at my struggles.

"Hmm, foul clothes, foul mouth," the woman I had hit commented from the porch. "Ain't surprised none 'bout the foul manners."

I looked up at Nancy McCoy, who was looking down at me in the mud like I was some sort of barnyard animal, hand on her hip and mouth twisted into a snide smirk. What a bitch.

"Sorry about that," I replied, not sorry at all. "I didn't see you there." I stood, not even bothering to try and find a clean part of me to wipe my hands off.

"You Hatfields never see further than your own noses. Seein' as you're a Yankee one, I am surprised if you see any of us lowly folk at all." Nancy McCoy was like the Regina George of 1880's West Virginia.

"I'm not a Hatfield," I replied, untying Orion.

"Might as well be."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Them Hatfield's killed my Pa," she said, her voice hardening. This was no longer some lame girlish intimidation – she was pissed. I looked up at her.

"I'm sorry, Nancy, I didn't know that."

"Well, no doubt they've all come 'cross as angels to you. Words gone 'round that you and Cap's been knocking your boots together. That one eyed-ape appeal to your Yankee sensibilities?"

I had to bite my lip so as not to tell her to shut the fuck up. "You know what Nancy? I'm going to put your bitchiness down to you being on the rag, because I find it hard to believe someone could be so rude to someone they don't even know." I pulled myself into the saddle, holding my head up high despite my disheveled and dirty state. "Have a nice night."

Pushing Orion to a gallop, I made it within a mile of the Hatfield homestead by dusk. It was creepy riding out on your own in the dark, but I appreciated the beauty of the just-before-nightfall quiet of the woods. The only sound besides my horse's hooves on the soft, rain soaked ground was the rustling of the leaves. And whistling.

I pulled Orion to a sharp stop as we rounded a bend and found a man limping down the middle of the road, dark hat pulled down over his eyes and brown beard obscuring most of his features. Orion reared slightly in surprise, and the man stumbled back slightly.

Getting my horse under control, I peered at the man. I didn't recognize him, and by this time I had seen most people in town at least once. Surveying the figure, I noticed how he heavily favored his right side, using a wooden crutch to help prop himself up. He looked tired and hungry, not to mention in dire need of a bath.

I held Orion still, though my horse wanted nothing more than to get home to his feed.

"Sorry, miss," the man said tiredly, taking off his hat. 'Didn't mean to startle ya." He limped toward me slightly.

"Are you alright, sir?" I asked, holding steady to Orion as he approached. My horse was still antsy around men, though when I controlled him he managed to stay calm, though reluctantly. He didn't, however, seem to like this man, and bucked his head in annoyance as he approached. I jerked the reins.

"Name's Dawson, Miss. Damn horse got spooked by a fox or somethin'," the man replied, pointing off vaguely in the direction we were both heading. The woods got a little darker. "Pardon my language. I do 'preciate you stoppin'. This leg here done got busted when I fell."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that…are you able to walk?"

"Not well, I'm 'fraid." He grimaced slightly. "Anyway I could get a ride into town?"

"Oh, well, I'm really sorry but my horse doesn't take to strangers that well," I admitted, as Orion let out a snort. "And town's the other way from which you're heading. But I can ride up to my house and get some help. It's only about a mile more down the road."

Dawson sighed. "I sure 'preciate that, Miss, but I don't think that'll be needed."

"No?" I asked, confused. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I'm thinking you have everything we need right here."

I blinked. "What?"

Suddenly, a hand grabbed a fistful of my skirts on the other side of Orion, and before I even had a chance to react I was being dragged to the ground, landing with a painful thud in the leaves. Orion whinnied and reared as Dawson tried to grab ahold of his reins, limping no longer. Grimacing, I looked up, shocked to see a younger, bulkier man looming over me.

"Hey there, Missy," he said, his breathe reeking of alcohol and the decay of teeth.

I watched in shock as Dawson tried jerking Orion into submission, but my horse was having none of it, rearing and kicking out his hooves at our assailant. The second man stood over me, eyeing me up and down.

"Get that damn animal under control," he snarled, reaching down to grab my saddlebag. "And I'll just take this from you."

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled, finally finding my voice – the somewhat brash New Yorker coming out. I should have kept my mouth shut, but that had never been my style. "Get the fuck off me!"

I grabbed the strap of my bag as the man yanked it from around my neck, wincing in pain as the leather snapped against my skin, leaving a stretch of rope burn. As I was on the ground and the man was twice my size, he easily wrestled my bag away from me, laughing at my feeble attempts. Orion was still snorting and rearing in anger, and I scrambled to my feet as the two men became distracted by the horse.

I wasn't going to let this happen. That bag had a ton of money in it and Orion was _my_ horse. Being apart of the Hatfield family meant standing up for yourself, being brave and not backing down. My anger may have blurred my judgment, and before I knew it, I had picked up a large branch from the side of the road, wielding it like a baseball bat.

With a determined growl, I brought the branch down on the back of the burly man's head, though my short height worked to my disadvantage and I didn't get the most powerful strike.

"Damn it, girl!" He cried in pain and I wound up to his him again. Orion, however, chose that moment to break free from the hold of Dawson, and with a roar took off down the leafy path. My only hope of escape was gone.

Taking advantage of my distraction, the burly man grabbed the branch and tried to yank it from my grasp. The fight I gave ended quickly, and I reeled back in pain as he struck the branch against the side of my head, much harder than I could have ever hoped to inflict on him.

I was knocked out almost instantly, only to regain consciousness as I soon as I hit the ground. I blinked back my vision, my head ringing with pain and disorientation. The world was fuzzy and the shouting of Dawson and his companion sounded mumbled and far away. I had never quite felt pain like that. I had once gotten a concussion playing soccer, and cracked my head on a cabinet door, but nothing quite compared to the throbbing pain I was currently experiencing, like my brain was getting ready to explode.

Eventually, as if time had slowed, I was able to focus again, and the only thing I could think was that Orion had run off. And that I should probably do the same thing.

"The bitch distracted me!" Dawson shouted at his companion. "Ain't my fault that damn horse was plum crazy. Just grab her bag Gus and let's get outta here."

"That horse was worth somethin' more than a damn bag," Gus shot back, apparently not having opened my purse yet.

I tried to slide away, but with my dizzy head and the crunching of the leaves, I had barely crawled a few feet before the Gus grabbed my arm. "Don't you go nowhere yet, girl." He gripped my forearm painfully, glaring down at me.

"I don't have any money," I managed to reply, my voice cracking a bit. I felt a trickle of blood roll down from my hairline.

"Not anymore you don't, but that ring there is mighty nice."

Realizing what he wanted, I tried pulling my arm away, but his grip was too strong. I kicked out my legs and balled my hand into a fist as Gus tried to pry my ring off of my finger. That ring was the last thing I had of my parents, the last memory from my old life, and I was not going to give it up to some toothless drunk on the side of the road.

"Quit fightin',"he growled, throwing me back down on the ground. I scrambled back away from him, but he straddled me quickly, pinning me to the ground between his legs as he tried to take my jewelry.

"Gus…" Dawson said, concern in his voice. I was too distracted by trying to fight off my assailant to notice that we were no longer alone.

Gus didn't notice either, and he raised his hand to hit me again. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the pain, but it never game. Instead, a gunshot pierced the sky, and I felt the warm splatter of blood across my face. Gus cried out in utter pain, and rolled off of me, holding the hand that had been raised to hit me to his chest, crimson blood pooling through his fingers. He had been shot right through the palm.

I looked up at Cap who was sitting on his horse, rifle raised and aimed at Gus. Anse rode beside him, pistol aimed at Dawson whose hands were raised in surrender. Ellison rode in a wagon at the back, rifle at the ready and Cotton Top peering out from behind him. I felt relief course through me.

"Leroy Dawson and Augustus Green," Anse said, glaring at the two men, his pistol steady in his hand. "I knew you weren't too smart, bein' horse thieves and all, but you must be complete _morons_ if you think it'd be wise to attack a Hatfield kin."

"How – how'd you know our names?" Dawson asked, looking fearfully between Anse and Gus, the latter of whom was writhing on the ground still, whimpering.

"I seen your pictures on the wall in my brother's office," Anse replied casually, walking his horse closer the men and looking down at them, radiating authority. "His name's Judge Wall Hatfield, and I reckon you'll be meetin' him soon enough."

"You alright, Emma?" Ellison asked me, hopping down from the wagon and coming toward me.

"Yeah, I think so," I replied, using his body to steady myself as I stood. "Orion ran off."

"We'll find 'im. Do'ya need the Doc?"

" No…I think I'm okay."

I looked up at Cap as Ellison helped me to the cart. Cap wouldn't meet my eyes, his gaze hadn't moved from Gus's figure since he fired that amazingly accurate shot. His jaw was set, his eyes intense and radiating fury. He was an incredibly intimidating figure, sitting there on his horse with his rifle at the ready, black hat casting shadows over his features. His blonde hair had fallen in front of his good eye, meaning the white one stood out that much more. For a moment, I was struck by how much he looked like his father.

"Cap," Anse said to his son, circling the two men. "Think we can get these two low-lives back to town before night falls?"

The blonde didn't respond, only kicked Star toward Gus, knocking the man forward with little care. I sat down next to Cotton in the back of the wagon, resting my throbbing head in my hands. The site of my ring on my finger made me smile slightly. Maybe I wasn't as helpless in this world as I had thought.

I sat in the wagon and watched as Cap and Anse herded the two horse thieves back down the road toward town. I stared at Cap, waiting for him to look at me. I wanted to tell him I was alright, that despite the seriousness of the situation that I was actually sort of exhilarated. Granted, if they hadn't shown up I probably would have been robbed completely and beaten again…but I didn't want to think about that.

He didn't look at me though. He just turned and rode off with his father. I swallowed hard; my head starting throbbing again.

"You alright Miss Emma?" Cotton asked, looking at me wide-eyed. He reached up tenderly and wiped from of the blood from my temple. My wound was superficial, but cuts to the head always bled more than necessary.

"I'm fine, Cotton," I replied to him as well as his father, who brought the reins down on the back of the cart mule to get us moving again. "I'm fine."

Upon entering the Hatfield home, I was immediately ushered to to the small kitchen stove where Lavicy was cooking her stew. She sat me down on a stool, ordered Nancy to continue cooking for the menfolk, and set about bandaging up my head.

"Don't look deep," she said, her voice matter-of-fact and lacking much emotion. She had seen much worse in her time and my little cuts and bruises weren't going to worry her. "Don't need stitches, I suspect. Still, best take it easy the next day or so."

I gave her a small smile of appreciation, before glancing over at Ellison, who was leaning against the wall, arms across his chest and watching me closely, making sure I wasn't too damaged.

"You probably want me to tell you what happened, right?" I asked. The earlier sense of pride I'd had in (sort of) fending off those men has evaporated quickly once we got back to the house and I realized the fuss that was sure to arise from this. I only felt embarrassed now.

"I think it's best we wait for Anse to get back. Sure he's bringin' Wall back with him."

I gulped. The thought of telling Devil Anse about how I tried to fight off two horse thieves on my own made me realize that it was a pretty stupid move on my part. And then I thought about how Cap wouldn't even look at me…shit. I was in trouble.

Lavicy had up all eat as we waited for Cap, Anse and probably Wall to get back to the house. It was another hour before heard steps on the front porch. Anse and Wall stepped over the threshold, looking tired and hungry, but otherwise fine.

"Howdy, Lavicy," Wall said, tipping his head in respect to his sister-in-law, before looking at me. "Miss Anderson. I hear you had yourself a bit of an altercation this evenin'."

"You could say that," I shrugged slightly. "Where's Cap?"

"You wanna tell me about it?"

Not really, at least not in front of the entire Hatfield family, but they all sat around the kitchen table waiting expectantly. I sighed, thinking maybe I could change the topic. "Where's Cap?"

"He's out getting your horse that done ran off. Now, you gonna tell me what happened or am I gonna have to ask you to come down to the courthouse for a full statement?"

This was so embarrassing.

"I was stupid," I started out apologetically. "I saw this man limping along the road and asked if he needed any help. He said his horse had thrown him and I offered to ride up here to get another horse for him to borrow or something to get him back to town and then all of sudden another guy burst out of the trees and pulled me off Orion. And you know how Orion hates men so of course he was bucking and rearing and eventually ran away, leaving me there. And then they tried to take my bags and my ring and I tried to get them off and it didn't quite work out well…and then Mr. Hatfield and Ellison and Cap and Cotton came up and got them off of me and took them back to town." I took in a deep breath. "I'm really sorry, it's my fault, I should have been so stupid."

Anse took a sharp suck on his pip and looked at me. "Miss Anderson," he said, his voice laced with annoyance. "You tellin' me that its your fault some horse thieves done knocked you off your mount while's you ridin' on your own?"

I blinked. "Um, yeah, I guess so."

"That you're stupid for stoppin' to help someone who seemed to be in need?"

Well, now I just didn't know what to say. I glanced at Wall, whose lips twitched slightly into a smile. I looked back at Anse, who was still staring at me in irritation.

"I should have known better, Mr. Hatfield, I'm sorry if I - "

"You apologize one more time, Miss Anderson, and I'll start to believe you _are_ stupid, cause only a stupid person would believe any of this was their fault. Don't let me hear that word one more time."

"Right, sorry…"

Realizing my error too late, I felt heat rise in my cheeks as Anse glared at me. Ellison let out an amused chuckle in the corner.

"Right, well, that seems straightforward enough," Wall said, relieving me from my embarrassment. "They have warrants out on them in four different counties. Shouldn't be too hard to convict them."

"Will Emma need to go to court at all?" Lavicy asked. The idea of doing that wasn't exactly pleasing.

"Shouldn't," Wall replied. "Like I said, plenty of evidence against them, and we'll add on the assault but it won't add much time to their sentences, wouldn't think."

Just then, the door opened and a new and rather unwelcomed figure strode into the kitchen.

"Found that damn colt," Jim Vance grumbled, not even bothering to look at me. "Took use near thirty minutes just to get a rope around its neck and then it fought us the whole way back here." If Orion had caused him any sort of annoyance, I would have to remember to give my horse an extra carrot or two. "Got any food, Lavicy?"

Lavicy gave an unpleasant look to Uncle Jim, but nodded. "Wall, you wanna stay for some stew?"

"Best be gettin' back, Lavicy, but thank you."

"Cotton and I need to get goin' as well. You take care now, Emma," Ellison said with a kind smile.

"I'll walk you out," I offered quickly. "I want to check on Orion." And Cap.

"_You're welcome_," Jim commented snidely as I passed him. I hadn't acknowledged his help, because I didn't like the idea of being in his debt in any way. Besides, I knew Cap had probably done all the work. Jim would have just let Orion go. I walked out into the cool night, steadier on my feet now that I had some food and water in me.

"Thank you again for your help, Ellison," I said as he helped Cotton into the wagon. "And I'll see you soon Cotton."

"Feel better, Miss Emma," the boy grinned, waving to me as they set off.

Wall rode his mount over to me, looking down from under his black hat. "I'll let you know if we need anything from you regardin' prosecutin' them horse thieves, but I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Thanks Wall," I replied, genuinely happy to have a lawyer on my side.

As he rode off down the hill, I headed over to the barn. The wind was picking up again, and the smell of storms was in the air. The low roll of thunder sounded in the distance. I got to the door, which was slightly open and the soft lantern glow poured out onto the grass. I slipped in through the narrow opening, looking to was far side of the barn where Cap struggling to get Orion into his stall. Cap's jacket was tossed on the ground with his hat and gun, as he put all of his strength into trying to get my horse to obey him. Orion wasn't fighting him actively, he just wasn't doing _anything_. I watched, amused, as my boyfriend yanked and my horse refused to budge, locked in a battle of wills that I doubted would end anytime soon. Deciding to put Cap out of his misery, I took a few steps forward.

"Need any help?"

Cap immediately turned to face me, his lips curved into a slight frown, brows furrowed. Orion's reigns fell from his hands, and my horse casually walked back into his stall all on his own, going straight for his hay bale. I would have teased Cap, had it not been for the look he was giving me. Now, Cap was usually serious and intense, but this was a look I hadn't experienced before. His eye was dark, and even the capped one seems more gray than white. The creases in his forehead were prominent, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

"Cap?" I asked, suddenly worried he was mad at me.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked, his voice tight. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a bump on the head," I tried to sound as casual as possible. I gave a small smile. "Lavicy thinks I'll survive."

Without another word, he strode toward me quickly, his long legs bringing him across the room in less than three seconds. At first, I thought he was coming to hug me or something, but instead I walked by me and to the bark down, pulling his shut with a bang. Thunder sounded again.

I watched him closely as he leaned against the door, his hands pressed against the wood and his head hanging.

"Cap, are you okay?"

He didn't respond. At least not with words. What he did do quite literally took my breath away. He turned from the door and to me and caught my face in his hands, kissing me with such intensity, such passion, that I nearly forgot where and who I was. Before I knew what was happening, he had pushed be back against the hay bales, his hands searching my body frantically, looking for an opening to my skin. These damn antebellum frocks didn't offer much access, so I did what I could to help by quickly unbuttoning my dress, without disconnecting my lips from is.

We were soon rolling around in the hay – no pun intended – both half naked and fully intoxicated with one another. Outside, the storm announced its arrival with pounding raid, flashes of lightening and gusts of wind. Cap and I could have cared less; we were too busy with each other. It was a frantic, expressive, frenetic and urgent love-making, but that didn't make it any less meaningful. The way I had come to know Cap…for him to let himself go like this was a big deal. He was so precise, so methodical in everything that he did, that for him to lose control…I knew he cared for me.

As we lay there after we had finished, tangled in various articles of clothing, itchy and straw covered, he held me close to him and kissed my temple lightly. I could have stayed like that forever.

"I'm sorry that this was how it happened," he said after a while.

"What do you mean?" I asked, turning to face him. He was so incredibly handsome – and I don't mean hot, or cute (even though he was both of those things), I mean _handsome._ He had a wisdom about him, with his strong jaw, pensive eyes, mature face. He was striking.

"Your first time…it should have been more proper than this."

I blanched slightly. That wasn't my first time. It wasn't my second, third or fourth time. In fact, I was fairly certain that I had had sex more times than Cap had (not that he wasn't good, because he was _exceptional_). I had only had two serious boyfriends, but when you're in college you can sleep together whenever you want and I like having sex, so…yeah. I hadn't met Cap a virgin, but I wasn't going to tell him that. He already had enough to deal with, what with my Yankee-ness and lack of a verbal filter.

"It's…it's okay. I don't mind. I'm just happy I'm with you." He smiled, seeming genuinely relieved by this and I felt a swell of affection for him. He really was a gentleman…but also had a naughty side to him that let him rip my clothes off in a barn. "The others are probably wondering where we are," I said reluctantly, knowing that we should probably get going.

The last thing I need was Anse to realize something was going on with Cap and me, particularly after just getting out of the whole Roseanna situation. The repercussions of what we had just done suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. If I got pregnant from this…

I found myself shocked that I didn't really mind the idea of having Cap's baby.

I shook the idea from my head as Cap stood and started to gather my clothes for me. No babies. Babies only brought trouble.


End file.
